u 







NATHANIEL 
HAWTHORNE 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



ti^X^" 

Chap.L... Copyright No.. 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



UUl 



^'OR 




THE OLD CONTINENTALS. 



GRANDFATHER'S 
CHAIR 



A HISTORY FOR YOUTH 



BY 

NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 



^r 



PHILADELPHIA 
^ HENRY ALTEMUS 

1898 






IN UNIFORM STYLE 



X a 7 9 2 Copiously Illustrated 



the pilgrim s progress 

Alice's adventures in wonderland 

through the looking-glass & what alice found there 

robinson crusoe 

THE child's STORY OF THE BIBLE 

THE child's life OF CHRIST 

LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS OF THE UNITED STATES 

THE SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON 

THE FABLES OF ^SOP 

CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS AND THE DISCOVERY OF AMERICA 

MOTHER goose's RHYMES, JINGLES AND FAIRY TALES 

exploration and adventure in the frozen seas 
the story of discovery and exploration in africa 
Gulliver's travels 

ARABIAN nights' ENTERTAINMENTS 

wood's natural HISTORY 

A child's HISTORY OF ENGLAND, by CHARLES DICKENS 

BLACK BEAUTY, by ANNA SEWELL 

ANDERSEN'S FAIRY TALES 

GRIMM's fairy TALES 

grandfather's chair, by NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 

FLOWER FABLES, by LOUISA M. ALCOTT 



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183 



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^m 



Copyright iSgS by Henry Altemus 



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PREFACE 



IN writing this ponderous tome, the author's desire 
has been to describe the eminent characters and 
remarkable events of our early annals in such a 
form and style that the young might make acquaint- 
ance with them of their own accord. For this pur- 
pose, while ostensibly relating the adventures of a 
chair, he has endeavored to keep a distinct and un- 
broken thread of authentic histor}'. The chair is 
made to pass from one to another of those personages 
of whom he thought it most desirable for the young 
reader to have vivid and familiar ideas, and whose 
lives and actions would best enable him to give 
picturesque sketches of the times. 



6 PRE FA CE. 

There is certainly no method by which the shadowy 
outlines of departed men and women can be made to 
assume the hues of life more effectually than by con- 
necting their images with the substantial and homely 
reality of a fireside chair. It causes us to feel at once 
that these characters of history had a private and 
familiar existence, and were not wholly contained 
within that cold array of outward action which we 
are compelled to receive as the adequate representation 
of their lives. If this impression can be given, much 
is accomplished. 

Setting aside grandfather and his auditors, and 
excepting the adventures of the chair, which form the 
machinery of the work, nothing in the ensuing pages 
can be termed fictitious. The author, it is true, has 
sometimes assumed the license of filling up the outline 
of history with details for which he has none but imag- 
inative authority, but which, he hopes, do not violate 
nor give a false coloring to the truth. He believes 
that, in this respect, his narrative will not be found 
to convey ideas and impressions of which the reader 
may hereafter find it necessary to purge his mind. 

The author's great doubt is, whether he has suc- 
ceeded in writing a book which will be readable by 
the class for whom he intends it. To make a lively 
and entertaining narrative for children, with such un- 
malleable material as is presented by the sombre, stern, 
and rigid characteristics of the Puritans and their 
descendants, is quite as difficult an attempt as to 
rtianufacture delicate playthings out of the granite 
rocks on which New England is founded. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 



CHAPTER I. 




BREWSTER'S CHAIR — PRESERVED AT PIIy' 
GRIM HAI.I,, NEW PI^YMOUTH. 



GRANDFATHER 
had been sitting 

in his old arm- 
chair all that pleas- 
ant afternoon, while 
the children were 
pursuing their vari- 
ous sports far off or 
near at hand. Some- 
times you would 
have said, "Grand- 
father is asleep ! " 
but still, even when 
his eyes were closed, 
his thoughts were 
with the young peo- 
ple, playing among 
the flowers and 
shrubbery of the 
o^arden. 

He heard the 
voice of Ivaurence, 
who had taken pos- 
session of a heap 
of decayed branches 



8 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

which the gardener had lopped from the fruit trees, 
and was building a little hut for his cousin Clara and 
himself He heard Clara's gladsome voice, too, as she 
weeded and watered the flower-bed which had been 
given her for her own. He could have counted every 
footstep that Charley took, as he trundled his wheel- 
barrow along the gravel walk. And though Grand- 
father was old and gray-haired, yet his heart leaped 
with joy whenever little Alice came fluttering, like a 
butterfly, into the room. She had made each of the 
children her playmate in turn, and now made Grand- 
father her playmate too, and thought him the merriest 
of them all. 

At last the children grew weary of their sports ; 
because a summer afternoon is like a long lifetime to 
the young. So they came into the room together, and 
clustered round Grandfather's great chair. Little 
Alice, who was hardly five years old, took the privi- 
lege of the youngest, and climbed his knee. It was a 
pleasant thing to behold that fair and golden-haired 
child in the lap of the old man, and to think that, 
different as they were, the hearts of both could be 
gladdened with the same joys. 

"Grandfather," said little Alice, laying her head 
back upon his arm, "I am very tired now. You must 
Itell me a story to make me go to sleep." 
! "That is not what story-tellers like," answered 
Grandfather, smiling. "They are better satisfied when 
they can keep their auditors awake." 

"But here are Laurence, and Charley, and I," cried 
cousin Clara who was twice as old as little Alice. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 9 

"We will all three keep wide awake. And pray, 
Grandfather, tell us a story about this strange looking 
old chair." 

Now, the chair in which Grandfather sat was made 
of oak, which had grown dark with age, but had been 
rubbed and polished till it shone as bright as mahog- 
any. It was very large and heavy, and had a back 
that rose high above Grandfather's white head. This 
back was curiously carved in open work, so as to rep- 
resent flowers, and foliage, and other devices, which 
the children had often gazed at, but could never 
understand what they meant. On the very tiptop of 
the chair, over the head of Grandfather himself, was 
a likeness of a lion's head, which had such a savage 
grin that you would almost expect to hear it growl 
and snarl. 

The children had seen Grandfather sitting in this 
chair ever since they could remember anything. Per- 
haps the younger of them supposed that he and the 
chair had come into the world together, and that both 
had always been as old as they were now. At this 
time, however, it happened to be the fashion for 
ladies to adorn their drawing-rooms with the oldest 
and oddest chairs that could be found. It seemed to 
cousin Clara that, if these ladies could have seen 
Grandfather's old chair, they would have thought it 
worth all the rest together. She wondered if it were 
not even older than Grandfather himself, and longed to 
know all about its history. 

"Do, Grandfather, talk to us about this chair," 
she repeated. 



lo GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

"Well, child," said Grandfather, patting Clara's 
cheek, " I can tell you a great many stories of my 
chair. Perhaps your cousin Laurence would like to 
hear them too. They will teach him something about 
the history and distinguished people of his country 
which he has never read in any of his scool -books." 

Cousin Laurence was a boy of twelve, a bright 
scholar, in whom an early thoughtfulness and sensi- 
bility began to show themselves. His young fancy 
kindled at the idea of knowing all the adventures of 
this venerable chair. He looked eagerly in Grand- 
father's face ; and even Charley, a bold, brisk, restless 
little fellow of nine, sat himself down on the carpet, 
and resolved to be quiet for at least ten minutes, should 
the story last so long. 

Meantime, little Alice was already asleep ; so Grand- 
father, being much pleased with such an attentive au- 
dience, began to talk about matters that had happened 
long ago. 

CHAPTER H. 

But before relating the adventures of the chair, 
Grandfather found it necessary to speak of the circum- 
stances that caused the first settlement of New Eng- 
land. For it will soon be perceived that the story of 
this remarkable chair cannot be told without telling a 
great deal of the history of the country. 

So Grandfather talked about the Puritans, as those 
persons were called who thought it sinful to practise 
the religious forms and ceremonies which the Church 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. ii 

of England had borrowed from the Catholics. These 
Puritans suffered so much persecution in England, 
that, in 1607, many of them went over to Holland, 
and lived ten or twelve years at Amsterdam and Ley- 
den. But they feared that, if they continued there 
much longer, they should cease to be English, and 



THE "MAYFI.OWKR AT NEW PI^YMOUTH. 

should adopt all the manners, and ideas, and feelings of 
the Dutch. For this and other reasons, in the year 
1620 they embarked on board of the ship ''Mayflower," 
and crossed the ocean, to the shores of Cape Cod. There 
they made a settlement, and called it Plymouth, which, 
though now a part of Massachusetts, was for a long 
time a colony by itself. And thus was formed the 



12 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

earliest settlement of the Puritans in America. 

Meantime, those of the Puritans who remained in 
England continued to suffer grievous persecutions on 
account of their religious opinions. They began to 
look around them for some spot where they might 
worship God, not as the king and bishops thought fit, 
but according to the dictates of their own consciences. 
When their brethren had gone from Holland to 
America, they bethought themselves that they like- 
wise might find refuge from persecution there. Several 
gentlemen among them purchased a tract of country 
on the coast of Massachusetts Bay, and obtained a 
charter from King Charles the First, which authorized 
them to make laws for the settlers. In the year 1628 
they sent over a few people with John Endicott at their 
head, to commence a plantation at Salem. Peter Pal- 
frey, Roger Conant, and one or two more had built 
houses there in 1626, and may be considered as the 
first settlers of that ancient town. Many other Puri- 
tans prepared to follow Endicott. 

" And now we come to the chair, my dear children," 
said Grandfather. "This chair is supposed to have 
been made of an oak tree which grew in the park of 
the English earl of Lincoln between two and three 
centuries ago. In its younger days it used, probably, 
to stand in the hall of the earPs castle. Do not you 
see the coat of arms of the family of Lincoln carved 
in the open-work of the back? But when his daugh- 
ter, the Lady Arbella, was married to a certain Mr. 
Johnson, the earl gave her this valuable chair." 

" Who was Mr. Johnson ?" inquired Clara. 



14 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

" He was a gentleman of great wealth, who agreed 
with the Puritans in their religious opinions," an- 
swered Grandfather. " And as his belief was the same 
as theirs, he resolved that he would live and die with 
them. Accordingly, in the month of April, 1630, he 
left his pleasant abode and all his comforts in Eng- 
land, and embarked, with Ivady Arbella, on board of 
a ship bound for America." 

As Grandfather was frequently impeded by the 
questions and observations of his young auditors, we 
deem it advisable to omit all such prattle as is not es- 
sential to the story. We have taken some pains to 
find out exactly what Grandfather said, and here offer 
to our readers, as nearly as possible in his own words, 
the story of 

THE LADY ARBKLLA. 

The ship in which Mr. Johnson and his lady em- 
barked, taking Grandfather's chair along with them, 
was called the Arbella, in honor of the lady herself. 
A fleet of ten or twelve vessels, with many hundred 
passengers, left England about the same time ; for a 
multitude of people, who were discontented with the 
king's government and oppressed by the bishops, were 
flocking over to the new world. One of the vessels in 
the fleet was that same "Mayflower" which had carried 
the Puritan pilgrims to Plymouth. And now, my 
children, I would have 3^ou fancy yourselves in the 
cabin of the good ship "Arbella;" because if you could 
behold the passengers aboard that vessel, you would 
feel what a blessing and honor it was for New England 



i6 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

to have such settlers. They were the best men and 
women of their day. 

Among the passengers was John Winthrop, who had 
sold the estate of his forefathers, and was going to pre- 
pare a new home for his wife and children in the wil- 
derness. He had the king's charter in his keeping, 
and was appointed the first Governor of Massachusetts. 
Imagine him a person of grave and benevolent aspect, 
dressed in a black velvet suit, with a broad ruff around 
his neck, and a peaked beard upon his chin. There 
was likewise a minister of the gospel whom the Eng- 
lish bishops had forbidden to preach, but who knew 
that he should have the liberty both to preach and pray 
in the forests of America. He wore a black cloak, 
called a Geneva cloak, and had a black velvet cap, fit- 
ting close to his head, as was the fashion of almost all 
the Puritan clergymen. In their company came Sir 
Richard Saltonstall, who had been one of the five 
first projectors of the new colony. He soon returned 
to his native country. But his descendants still remain 
in New England ; and the good old family name is as 
much respected in our days as it was in those of Sir 
Richard. 

Not only these, but several other men of wealth 
and pious ministers were in the cabin of the Arbella. 
One had banished himself forever from the old hall 
where his ancestors liad lived for hundreds of years. 
Another had left his quiet parsonage, in a country- 
town of England. Others had come from the uni- 
versities of Oxford or Cambridge, where they had 
gained great fame for their learning. And here 




KING CHARIvES I., OF ENGLAND. 



i8 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

they all were, tossing upon the uncertain and dan- 
gerous sea, and bound for a home that was more 
dangerous than even the sea itself. In the cabin, 
likewise, sat the I^ady Arbella in her chair, with a 
gentle and sweet expression on her face, but looking 
too pale and feeble to endure the hardships of the 
wilderness. 

Every morning and evening the Lady Arbella gave 
up her great chair to one of the ministers, who took 
his place in it and read passages from the Bible to his 
companions. And thus, with prayers, and pious con- 
versation and frequent singing of hymns, which the 
breezes caught from their lips and scattered far over 
the desolate waves, they prosecuted their voyage, and 
sailed into the harbor of Salem in the month of 
June. 

At that period there were but six or eight dwell- 
ings in the town ; and these were miserable hovels, 
with roofs of straw and wooden chimneys. The pas- 
sengers in the fleet either built huts with bark and 
branches of trees, or erected tents of cloth till they 
could provide themselves with better shelter. Many 
of them went to form a settlement at Charlestown. It 
was thought fit that the Lady Arbella should tarry in 
Salem for a time : she was probably received as a guest 
into the family of John Kndicott. He was the chief 
person in the plantation, and had the only comfortable 
house which the new-comers had beheld since they 
left England. So now, children, you must imagine 
Grandfather's chair in the midst of a new scene. 

Suppose it is a hot summer's day, and the lattice- 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



19 



window of a chamber in Mr. Endicott's house thrown 
wide open. The Lady Arbella, looking paler than 




JOHN ENDICOTT. 

she did on shipboard, is sitting in her chair and think- 
ing mournfully of far-off England. She rises and 
goes to the window. There, amid patches of garden 



20 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

ground and cornfield, she sees the few wretched hovels 
of the settlers, with the still ruder wigwams and cloth 
tents of the passengers who had arrived in the same 
fleet with herself Far and near stretches the dismal 
forest of pine trees, which throw their black shadows 
over the whole land, and likewise over the heart of 
this poor lady. 

All the inhabitants of the little village are busy. 
One is clearing a spot on the verge of the forest for 
his homestead ; another is hewing the trunk of a fallen 
pine tree, in order to build himself a dwelling ; a third 
is hoeing his field of Indian corn. Here comes a 
huntsman out of the woods, dragging a bear which he 
has shot, and shouting to the neighbors to lend him a 
hand. There goes a man to the sea-shore with a 
spade and a bucket, to dig a mess of clams, which 
were a principal article of food with the first settlers. 
Scattered here and there are two or three dusky fig- 
ures, clad in mantles of fur, with ornaments of bone 
hanging from their ears, and the feathers of wild birds 
in their coal black hair. They have belts of shell- 
work slung across their shoulders, and are armed with 
bows and arrows and flint-headed spears. These are 
an Indian Sagamore and his attendants, who have- 
come to gaze at the labors of the white men. And 
now rises a cry that a pack of wolves have seized a 
young calf in the pasture ; and every man snatches 
up his gun or pike and runs in chase of the maraud- 
ing beasts. 

Poor Lady Arbella watches all these sights, and 
feels that this new world is fit only for rough and 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



21 



hardy people. None should be here but those who 
can struggle with wild beasts and wild men, and can 
toil in the heat or cold, and can keep their hearts firm 




TOMB OF THE MATK OF THE "MAYFLOWER. 



against all difficulties and dangers. But she is not 
one of these. Her gentle and timid spirit sinks 
within her ; and, turning away firom the window, she 
sits down in the great chair and wonders where- 



22 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

abouts in the wilderness her friends will dig her grave. 

Mr. Johnson had gone, with Governor Winthrop 
and most of the other passengers, to Boston, where 
he intended to build a house for Lady Arbella and 
himself Boston was then covered with wild woods, 
and had fewer inhabitants, even, than Salem. Dur- 
ing her husband's absence, poor Lady Arbella felt 
herself growing ill, and was hardly able to stir from 
the great chair. Whenever John Endicott noticed 
her despondency, he doubtless addressed her with 
words of comfort. 

" Cheer up, my good lady !" he would say. '' In a 
little time, you will love this rude life of the wilder- 
ness as I do." 

But Bndicott's heart was as bold and resolute as 
iron, and he could not understand why a woman's 
heart should not be of iron too. 

Still, however, he spoke kindly to the lady, and 
then hastened forth to till his cornfield and set out 
fruit trees, or to bargain with the Indians for furs, or 
perchance to oversee the building of a fort. Also, be- 
ing a magistrate, he had often to punish some idler or 
evil doer, by ordering him to be set in the stocks or 
scourged at the whipping-post. Often, too, as was 
the custom of the times, he and Mr. Higginson, the 
minister of Salem, held long religious talks together. 
Thus John Endicott was a man of multifarious busi- 
ness, and had no time to look back regretfully to his 
native land. He felt himself fit for the new world 
and for the work that he had to do, and set himself 
resolutely to accomplish it. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



23 



What a contrast, my dear children, between this 
bold, rough, active man, and the gentle Lady Arbella, 
who was fading away, like a pale English flower, in 
the shadow of the forest ! And now the great chair 




BIBIvE BROUGHT OVER IN THE " MAYEI^OWER," IN 
PII^GRIM HAI^I,, NEW PI^VMOUTH. 

was often empty, because Lady Arbella grew too weak 
to arise from bed. 

Meantime, her husband had pitched upon a spot 
for their new home. He returned from Boston to 
■Salem, travelling through the woods on foot, and lean- 
ing on his pilgrim's staff. His heart yearned within 
himr for he was eag^er to tell his wife of the new 



24 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

home which he had chosen. But when he beheld her 
pale and hollow cheek, and found how her strength 
was wasted, he must have known that her appointed 
home was in a better land. Happy for him then — 
happy both for him and her — if they remembered 
that there was a path to heaven, as well from this 
heathen wilderness as from the Christian land whence 
they had come. And so, in one short month from her 
arrival, the gentle Lady Arbella faded away and died. 
They dug a grave for her in the new soil, where the 
roots of the pine trees impeded their spades ; and when 
her bones had rested there nearly two hundred years, 
and a city had sprung np around them, a church of 
stone was built upon the spot. 



Charley, almost at the commencement of the fore- 
going narrative, had galloped away, with a prodigious 
clatter, upon Grandfather's stick, and w^as not yet re- 
turned. So large a boy should have been ashamed to 
ride upon a stick. But Laurence and Clara had lis- 
tened attentively, and were affected by this true story 
of the gentle lady who had come so far to die so soon. 
Grandfather had supposed that little Alice was asleep ; 
but towards the close of the story, happening to look 
down upon her, he saw that her blue eyes were wide 
open, and fixed earnestly upon his face. The tears 
had gathered in them, like dew upon a delicate flower ; 
but when Grandfather ceased to speak, the sunshine 
of her smile broke forth again. 

"Oh, the lady must have been so glad to get to 
Heaven !" exclaimed little Alice. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 25 

"Grandfather, what became of Mr. Johnson?" 
asked Clara. 

" His heart appears to have been quite broken," 
answered Grandfather; ''for he died at Boston within 
a month after the death of his wife. He was buried in 
the very same tract of ground where he had intended 
to build a dwelling for Lady Arbella and himself 




INDIAN WARRIORS. 



26 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

Where their house would have stood, there was his 
grave. 

"I never heard anything so melancholv !" said 
Clara. 

" The people loved and respected Mr. Johnson so 
much," continued Grandfather, " that it was the last 
request of many of them, when they died, that they 
might be buried as near as possible to this good man's 
grave. And so the field became the first burial-ground 
in Boston. When you pass through Tremont Street, 
along by King's Chapel, you see a burial-ground con- 
taining many old grave-stones and monuments. That 
was Mr. Johnson's field." 

" How sad is the thought," observed Clara, '' that 
one of the first things that the settlers had to do, when 
they came to the new world, was to set apart a burial- 
ground !" 

"Perhaps," said Laurence, "it they had found no 
need of burial-grounds here, they would have been 
glad, after a few years, to go back to England." 

Grandfather looked at Laurence, to discover whether 
he knew how profound and true a thing he had said. 



CHAPTER in. 

Not long after Grandfather had told the story of 
his great chair there chanced to be a rainy day. Our 
friend Charley, after disturbing the household with 
beat of drum and riotous shouts, races up and down 
the staircase, overturning of chairs, and much other 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR, 



27 



Uproar, began to feel the quiet and confinement within 
doors intolerable. But as the rain came down in a 




INDIAN WEAPONS. 



flood, the little fellow was hopelessly a prisoner, and 
now stood with sullen aspect at a window, wondering 



28 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

whether the sun itself was not extinguished b)- so 
much moisture in the sky. 

Charley had already exhausted the less eager acti^^- 
ity of the other children ; and they had betaken them- 
selves to occupations which did not admit of his com- 
panionship. Laurence sat in a recess near the book- 
case, reading, not for the first time, the Midsummer 
Night's Dream. Clara was making a rosary of beads 
for a little figure of a Sister of Charity, who was to 
attend the Bunker Hill fair and lend her aid in erect- 
ing the Monument. Little Alice sat on Grandfather's 
footstool, with a picture book in her hand ; and, for 
every picture, the child was telling Grandfather a 
story. She did not read from the book (for little 
Alice had not much skill in reading), but told the story 
out of her own heart and mind. 

Charley was too big a boy, of course, to care an}'- 
thing about little Alice's stories, although Grandfather 
appeared to listen with a good deal of interest. Often, 
in a young child's ideas and fancies, there is some- 
thing which requires the thought of a lifetime to com- 
prehend. But Charley was of opinion that, if a story 
must be told, it had better be told by Grandfather 
than little Alice. 

" Grandfather, I want to hear more about your 
chair," said he. 

Now, Grandfather remembered that Charley had 
galloped away upon a stick in the midst of the narra- 
tive of poor Lady Arbella, and I know not whether 
he would have thought it worth while to tell another 
story merely to gratify such an inattentive auditor as 




THE MONUMENT AT BUNKER'S HII,!,. 



30 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

Charley. But Laurence laid down his book and sec- 
onded the request. Clara drew her chair nearer to 
Grandfather ; and little Alice immediately closed her 
picture book and looked up into his face. Grandfather 
had not the heart to disappoint them. 

He mentioned several persons who had a share in 
the settlement of our country, and who would be well 
worthy of remembrance, if we could find room to tell 
about them all. Among the rest, Grandfather spoke 
of the famous Hugh Peters, a minister of the gospel, 
who did much good to the inhabitants of Salem. Mr. 
Peters afterwards went back to England, and was 
chaplain to Oliver Cromwell ; but Grandfather did not 
tell the children what became of this upright and zeal- 
ous man at last. In fact, his auditors were growing 
impatient to hear more about the history of the chair. 

" After the death of Mr. Johnson," said he, " Grand- 
father's chair came into the possession of Roger Wil- 
liams. He was a clergyman, who arrived at Salem, 
and settled there in 163 1. Doubtless the good man 
has spent many a studious hour in this old chair, either 
penning a sermon or reading some abstruse book of 
theology, till midnight came upon him unawares. At 
that period, as there were few lamps or candles to be 
had people used to read or work by the light of pitch- 
pine torches. These supplied the place of the ' mid- 
night oil ' to the learned men of New England." 

Grandfather went on to talk about Roger Williams, 
and told the children several particulars, which we 
have not room to repeat. One incident, however, 
which was connected with his life, must be related, 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 31. 

because it will give the reader an idea of the opinions 
and feelings of the first settlers of New England. It 
was as follows : 

THE RKD CROSS. 

While Roger Williams sat in Grandfather's chair 
at his humble residence in Salem, John Endicott 
would often come to visit him. As the clergy had 
great influence in temporal concerns, the minister and 
magistrate would talk over the occurrences of the day, 
and consult how the people might be governed accord- 
ing to scriptural laws. 

One thing especially troubled them both. In the 
old national banner of England, under which her sol- 
diers have fought for hundreds of years, there is a 
Red Cross, which has been there ever since the days 
when England was in subjection to the Pope. The 
Cross, though a holy symbol, was abhorred by the 
Puritans, because they considered it a relic of popish 
idolatry. Now, whenever the train-band of Salem was 
mustered, the soldiers, with Endicott at their head, 
had no other flag to march under than this same old 
papistical banner of England, with the Red Cross in 
the midst of it. The banner of the Red Cross, like- 
wise, was flying on the walls of the fort of Salem ; 
and a similar one was displayed in Boston harbor, from 
the fortress on Castle Island. 

"I profess. Brother Williams," Captain Endicott 
would say, after they had been talking of this matter, 
^' it distresses a Christian man's heart to see this 
idolatrous Cross flying over our heads. A stranger, 



32 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

beholding it, would think that we had undergone all 
our hardships and dangers, by sea and in the wilder- 
ness, only to get new dominions for the Pope of 
Rome." 

"-Truly, good Mr. Endicott," Roger Williams would 
answer, " you speak as an honest man and Protestant 
Christian should. For my own part, were it my 
business to draw a sword, I should reckon it sinful to 
fight under such a banner. Neither can I, in my pul- 
pit, ask the blessing of Heaven upon it." 

Such, probably, was the way in which Roger Wil- 
liams and John Endicott used to talk about the banner 
of the Red Cross. Endicott, who was a prompt and 
resolute man, soon determined that Massachusetts, if 
she could not a have a banner of her own, should at 
least be delivered from that of the Pope of Rome. 

Not long afterwards there was a military muster at 
Salem. Every ablebodied man in the town and neigh- 
borhood was there. All were well armed, with steel 
caps upon their heads, plates of iron upon their 
breasts and at their backs, and gorgets of steel around 
their necks. When the sun shone upon these ranks 
of iron-clad men, they flashed and blazed with a splen- 
dor that bedazzled the wild Indians who had come 
out of the woods to gaze at them. The soldiers had 
long pikes, swords, and muskets, which were fired 
with matches, and were almost as heavy as a small 
cannon. 

These men had mostly a stern and rigid aspect. 
To judge by their looks, you might have supposed 
that there was as much iron in their hearts as there 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 33 

was upon their heads and breasts. The}' were all de- 
voted Puritans, and of the same temper as those with 
whom Oliver Cromwell afterwards overthrew the 




JOHN WINTHROP. 

throne of England. They hated all the relics of 
popish superstition as much as Endicott himself; and 
yet over their heads was displayed the banner of the 
Red Cross. 
3 



34 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

Endicott was the captain of the company. While 
the soldiers were expecting his orders to begin their 
exercise, they saw him take the banner in one hand, 
holding his drawn sword in the order. Probably 
he addressed them in a speech, and explained how 
horrible a thing it was that men, who had fled 
from popish idolatry into the wilderness, should 
be compelled to fight under its symbols here. 
Perhaps he concluded his address somewhat in the 
following style. 

" And now, fellow soldiers, you see this old banner 
of England. Some of you, I doubt not, may think it 
treason for a man to lay violent hands upon it. But 
whether or no it be treason to man, I have good as- 
surance in my conscience that it is no treason to God. 
Wherefore, I have resolved that we will rather be 
God's soldiers than soldiers of the Pope of Rome; 
and in that mind I now cut the Papal Cross out of 
this banner." 

And so he did. And thus, in a province belonging 
to the crown of England, a captain was found bold 
enough to deface the King's banner with his sword. 

When Winthrop and the other wise men of Massa- 
chusetts heard of it they were disquieted, being afraid 
that Endicott's act would bring great trouble upon 
himself and them. An account of the matter was 
carried to King Charles ; but he was then so much 
engrossed by dissentions with his people that he had 
no leisure to punish the offender. In other times, it 
might have cost Endicott his life, and Massachusetts 
her charter. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 35 

" I should like to know, Grandfather," said Lau- 
rence, when the story was ended, " whether, when 
Endicott cut the red cross out of the banner, he meant 
to imply that Massachusetts was independent of Eng- 
land?" 

"A sense of independence of his adopted country 
must have been in that bold man's heart," answered 
Grandfather; "but I doubt whether he had given the 
matter much consideration except in its religious bear- 
ing. However, it was a very remarkable affair and 
a very strong expression of Puritan character. 

Grandfather proceeded to speak further of Roger 
Williams, and of other persons who sat in the great 
chair, as will be seen in the following chapter. 



CHAPTER IV. 

" Roger Williams," said Grandfather, " did not 
keep possession of the chair a great while. His opin- 
ions of civil and religious matters differed, in many 
respects, from those of the rulers and clergymen of 
Massachusetts. Now, the wise men of those days 
believed that the country could not be safe unless all 
the inhabitants thought and felt alike." 

"Does anybody believe so in our days, Grand- 
father?" asked Laurence. 

"Possibly there are some who believe it," said 
Grandfather ; " but they have not so much power to 
act upon their belief as the magistrates and ministers 
had in the days of Roger Williams. They had the 



36 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

power to deprive this good man of his home, and to 
send him out from the midst of them in search of a 
new place of rest. He was banished in 1634, and 
went first to Plymouth colony ; but as the people there 
held the same opinions as those of Massachusetts, he 
was not suffered to remain among them. However, 
the wilderness was wide enough ; so Roger Williams 
took his staff and travelled into the forest and made 
treaties with the Indians, and began a plantation which 
he called Providence." 

"I have been to Providence on the railroad," said 
Charley. ''It is but a two hours' ride from Boston." 

"Yes, Charley," replied Grandfather, "but when 
Roger Williams travelled thither, over hills and val- 
leys, and through the tangled woods, and across swamps 
and streams, it was a journey of several days. Well, 
his little plantation is now grown to be a populous 
city ; and the inhabitants have a great veneration for 
Roger Williams. His name is familiar in the mouths 
of all, because they see it on their bank-bills. How it 
would have perplexed this good clergyman if he had 
been told that he should give his name to the RoGER 
WiLLL\MS Bank!" 

" When he was driven from Massachusetts," said 
Laurence, "and began his journey into the woods, he 
must have felt as if he were burying himself forever 
from the sight and knowledge of men. Yet the whole 
country has now heard of him, and will remember him 
forever." 

" Yes," answered Grandfather; "it often happens 
that the outcasts of one generation are those who are 







ROGER WILLIAMS IN THE FOREST. 



38 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

reverenced as the wisest and best of men by the next. 
The securest fame is that which comes after a man's 
death. But let us return to our story. When Roger 
Williams was banished, he appears to have given the 
chair to Mrs. Anne Hutchinson. At all events, it was 
in her possession in 1637. She was a very sharp- 
witted and well-instructed lady, and was so conscious 
of her own wisdom and abilities that she thought it a 
pity that the world should not have the benefit of 
them. She therefore used to hold lectures in Boston 
once or twice a week, at which most of the women at- 
tended. Mrs. Hutchinson presided at these meetings, 
sitting with great state and dignity in Grandfather's 
chair." 

"Grandfather, was it positively this very chair?" 
demanded Clara, laying her hand upon its carved 
elbow. 

"Why not, my dear Clara?" said Grandfather. 
" Well, Mrs. Hutchinson's lectures soon caused a great 
disturbance ; for the ministers of Boston did not think 
it safe and proper that a woman should publicly instruct 
the people in religious doctrines. Moreover, she made 
the matter worse by declaring that the Rev. Mr. Cotton 
was the only sincerely pious and holy clergyman in 
New England. Now, the clergy of those days had 
quite as much share in the government of the country, 
thought indirectly, as the magistrates themselves; 
so you may imagine what a host of powerful 
enemies were raised up against Mrs. Hutchinson. 
A synod was convened; that is to say, an assem- 
blage of all the ministers in Massachusetts. They 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 39 

declared that there were eighty-two erroneous opin- 
ions on religious subjects diffused among the people, 
and that Mrs. Hutchinson's opinions were of the 
number." 

" If they had eighty-two wrong opinions," observed 
Charley, " I don't see how they could have any right 
ones." 

" Mrs. Hutchinson had many zealous friends and 
converts," continued Grandfather. "She was favored 
by young Henry Vane, who had come over from 
England a year or two before, and had since been 
chosen governor of the colony, at the age of twenty- 
four. But Winthrop and most of the other leading 
men, as well as the ministers, felt an abhorrence of 
her doctrines. Thus two opposite parties were 
formed ; and so fierce were the dissensions that it was 
feared the consequence would be civil war and blood- 
shed. But Winthrop and the ministers being the 
most powerful, they disarmed and imprisoned Mrs. 
Hutchinson's adherents. She, like Roger Williams, 
was banished." 

" Dear Grandfather, did they drive the poor woman 
into the woods?" exclaimed little Alice, who contrived 
to feel a human interest even in these discords of 
polemic divinity. 

" They did, my darling," replied Grandfather ; "and 
the end of her life was so sad you must not hear it. 
At her departure, it appears, from the best authorities, 
that she gave the great chair to her friend, Henry 
Vane. He was a young man of wonderful talents and 
great learning, who had imbibed the religious opinions 



40 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

of the Puritans, and left England with the intention 
of spending his life in Massachusetts. The people 
chose him governor ; but the controversy about Mrs. 
Hutchinson, and other troubles, caused him to leave the 
country in 1637. You may read the subsequent events 
of his life in the History of England." 

"Yes, Grandfather," cried Laurence; "and we may 
read them better in Mr. Upham's biography of Vane. 
And what a beautiful death he died, long afterwards ! 
beautiful, though it was on a scaffold." 

"Many of the most beautiful deaths have been 
there," said Grandfather. "The enemies of a great 
and good man can in no other way make him so 
glorious as by giving him the crown of martyrdom." 

In order that the children might fully understand 
the all-important history of the chair. Grandfather now 
thought fit to speak of the progress that was made in 
settling several colonies. The settlement of Plymouth, 
in 1620, has already been mentioned. In 1635 Mr. 
Hooker and Mr. Stone, two ministers, w^ent on foot 
from Massachusetts to Connecticut, through the path- 
less woods, taking their whole congregation along with 
them. They founded the town of Hartford. In 1638 
Mr. Davenport, a very celebrated minister, went with 
other people, and began a plantation at New Haven. 
In the same year, some • persons who had been perse- 
cuted in Massachusetts went to the Isle of Rhodes, 
since called Rhode Island, and settled there. About 
this time, also, many settlers had gone to Maine, 
and were living without any regular government. 
There were likewise settlers near Piscataqua River, 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 41 

jn the region which is now called New Hampshire. 
Thus, at various points along the coast of New 




SIR HARRY VANB. 



England, there were communities of Englishmen. 
Though these communities were independent of one 



42 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

another, yet they had a common dependence upon 
England ; and, at so vast a distance from their native 
home, the inhabitants must all have felt like brethren. 
They were fitted to become one united people at a 
future period. Perhaps their feelings of brotherhood 
were the stronger because different nations had formed 
settlements to the north and to the south. In Canada 
and Nova Scotia were colonies of French. On the 
banks of the Hudson River was a colony of Dutch, who 
had taken possession of that region many years before 
and called it New Netherlands. 

Grandfather, for aught I know, might have gone 
on to speak of Maryland and Virginia ; for the good 
old gentleman really seemed to suppose that the whole 
surface of the United States was not too broad a foun- 
dation to place the four legs of his chair upon. But, 
happening to glance at Charley, he perceived that this 
naughty boy was growing impatient and meditating 
another ride upon a stick. So here, for the present. 
Grandfather suspended the history of his chair. 



CHAPTER V. 

The children had now learned to look upon the 
chair with an interest which was almost the same as if 
it were a conscious being, and could remember the 
many famous people whom it had held within its 
arms. 

Even Charley, lawless as he was, seemed to feci 
that this venerable chair must not be clambered upon 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 43 

nor overturned, although he had no scruple in taking 
such liberties with every other chair in the house. 
Clara treated it with still greater reverence, often tak- 
ing occasion to smooth its cushion, and to brush the 
dust from the carved flowers and grotesque figures of 
its oaken back and arms. Laurence would sometimes 
sit a whole hour, especially at twilight, gazing at the 
chair, and, by the spell of his imaginations, summon- 
ing up its ancient occupants to appear in it again. 

Little Alice evidently employed herself in a similar 
way ; for once when Grandfather had gone abroad, 
the child was heard talking with the gentle Lady 
Arbella, as if she were still sitting in the chair. So 
sweet a child as little Alice may fitly talk with angels, 
such as the Lady Arbella had long since become. 

Grandfather was soon importuned for more stories 
about the chair. He had no difficulty in relating 
them ; for it really seemed as if every person noted in 
our early history had, on some occasion or other, 
found repose within its comfortable arms. If Grand- 
father took pride in anything, it was in being the 
possessor of such an honorable and historic elbow 
chair. 

" I know not precisely who next got possession of 
the chair after Governor Vane went back to England," 
said Grandfather. " But there is reason to believe 
that President Dunster sat in it, when he held the 
first commencement at Harvard College. You have 
often heard, children, how careful our forefathers were 
to give their young people a good education. They 
had scarcely cut down trees enough to make room 



44 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

for their own dwellings before they began to think of 
establishing a college. Their principal object was, to 
rear np pious and learned ministers ; and hence old 
writers call Harvard College a school of the prophets." 

" Is the college a school of the prophets now ?" 
asked Charley. 

"It is a long while since I took my degree, Char- 
ley. You must ask some of the recent graduates," 
answered Grandfather. ''As I was telling you. Presi- 
dent Dunster sat in Grandfather's chair in 1642, when 
he conferred the degree of Bachelor of Arts on nine 
young men. They were the first in America who had 
received that honor. And now, my dear auditors, I 
must confess that there are contradictory statements 
and some uncertainty about the adventures of the chair 
for a period of almost ten years. Some say that it was 
occupied by your own ancestor, William Hawthorne, 
first Speaker of the House of Representatives. I have 
nearly satisfied myself, however, that, during most of 
this questionable period, it was literally the Chair of 
State. It gives me much pleasure to imagine that 
several successive governors of Massachusetts sat in it 
at the council board." 

" But Grandfather," interposed Charley, who was 
a matter of-fact little person, " what reason have you 
to imagine so ?" 

" Pray do imagine it. Grandfather," said Lau- 
rence. 

" With Charley's permission, I will," replied Grand- 
father, smiling. " Let us consider it settled, there- 
fore, that Winthrop, Bellingham, Dudley, and Endi- 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 45 

cott, each of them, when chosen governor, took his 
seat in our great chair on election da)-. In this chair, 
likewise, did those excellent governors preside while 
holding consultations with the chief counsellors of 
the province, who were styled assistants. The gover- 
nor sat in this chair, too, whenever messages were 
brought to him from the chamber of Representa- 
tives." 

And here Grandfather took occasion to talk rather 
tediously about the nature and forms of government 
that established themselves, almost spontaneously, in 
Massachusetts and the other New England colonies. 
Democracies were the natural growth of the New 
World. As to Massachusetts, it was at first intended 
that the colony should be governed by a council in 
London. But in a little while the people had the 
whole power in their own hands, and chose annually 
the governor, the counsellors, and the representatives. 
The people of old England had never enjoyed any- 
thing like the liberties and privilegs which the settlers 
of New England now possessed. And they did not 
adopt these modes of government after long study, 
but in simplicity, as if there were no other way for 
people to be ruled. 

" But, Laurence," continued Grandfather, " when 
you want instruction on these points, you must seek 
it in Mr. Bancroft's History. I am merely telling the 
history of a chair. To proceed. The period during 
which the governors sat in our chair was not very full 
of striking incidents. The province was now estab- 
lished on a secure foundation ; but it did not increase 



46 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

SO rapidly as at first, because the Puritans were no 
longer driven from England by persecution. How- 
ever, there was still a quiet and natural growth. The 
legislature incorporated towns, and made new pur- 
chases of lands from the Indians. A very memorable 
event took place in 1643. '^^^ colonies of Massachu- 
setts, Plymouth, Connecticut, and New Haven formed 
a union, for the purpose of assisting each other in 
difficulties, for mutual defence against their enemies. 
They called themselves the United Colonies of New 
England." 

Were they under a government like that of the 
United States?" inquired Laurence. 

'' No," replied Grandfather ; " the different col- 
onies did not compose one nation together ; it was 
merely a confederacy among the governments. It 
somewhat resembled the league of the Amphictyons, 
which you remember in Grecian history. But to re- 
turn to our chair. In 1644 it was highly honored ; 
for Governor Endicott sat in it when he gave audi- 
ence to an ambassador from the French governor of 
Acadie, or Nova Scotia A treaty of peace between 
Massachusetts and the French colony was then 
siofued." 

" Did England allow Massachusetts to make war 
and peace with foreign countries ? " asked Laur- 
ence. 

" Massachusetts and the whole of New England 
was then almost independent of the mother country," 
said Grandfather. " There was now a civil war in 
England ; and the king, as you may well suppose, had 




MASSACRE OF SETTLERS BY THE INDIANS- 



48 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR, 

his hands full at home, and could pay but little atten- 
tion to these remote colonies. When the Parliament 
got the power into their hands, they likev/ise had 
enough to do in keeping down the Cavaliers. Thus 
New England, like a young and hardy lad whose 
father and mother neglect it, was left to take care o f 
itself In 1649 K^i^§" Charles was beheaded. Oliver 
Cromwell then became Protector of England ; and as 
he was a Puritan himself, and had risen b}^ the valor 
of the English Puritans, he showed himself a lov- 
ing and indulgent father to the Puritan colonies in 
America." 

Grandfather might have continued to talk in this 
dull manner nobody knows how long ; but suspecting 
that Charley would find the subject rather dry, he 
looked sidewise at that vivacious little fellow, and saw 
him give an involuntary yawn. Whereupon Grand- 
father proceeded with the history of the chair, and re- 
lated a very entertaining incident, which will be found 
in the next chapter. 



CHAPTER VI. 

" According to the most authentic records, my dear 
children," said Grandfather, " the chair, about this 
time, had the misfortune to break its- leg. It was 
probably on account of this accident that it ceased to 
be the seat of the governors of Massachusetts ; for, as- 
suredly, it would have been ominous of evil to the 
commonwealth if the Chair of State had tottered upon 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 49 

three legs. Being therefore sold at auction — alas ! what 
a vicissitude for a chair that had figured in such high 



OLIVER CROMWELIv. 



company — our venerable friend was knocked down to a 
certain Captain John Hull. The old gentleman, on 

4 



50 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

carefully examining the named chair, discovered that 
its broken leg might be clamped with iron and made 
as serviceable as ever." 

"Here is the very leg that was broken ! " exclaimicd 
Charley, throwing himself down on the floor to look at 
it. " And here are the iron clamps. How well it was 
mended ! " 

When they had all sufficiently examined the broken 
leg, Grandfather told them a story about Captain John 
Hull and 

THE PINE-TREE SHH.LINGS. 

The Captain John Hull aforesaid was the mint- 
master of Massachusetts, and coined all the money that 
was made there. This was a new line of business ; 
for, in the earlier days of the colony, the current coin- 
age consisted of gold and silver money of England, 
Portugal, and Spain. These coins being scarce, the 
people were often forced to barter their commodities 
instead of selling them. 

For instance, if a man wanted to buy a coat, he 
perhaps exchanged a bear skin for it. If he wished 
for a barrel of molasses, he might purchase it with a 
pile of pine boards. Musket-bullets were used instead 
of farthings. The Indians had a sort of money, called 
wampun, which was made of clam shells ; and this 
strange sort of specie was likewise taken in payment 
of debts by the English settlers. Bank-bills had never 
been heard of There was not money enough of any 
kind, in many parts of the country, to pay the salaries 
of the ministers ; so that they sometimes had to take 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 51 

quintals of fish, bushels of corn, or cords 01 wood, 
instead of silver or gold. 

As the people grew more numerous, and their trade 
with one another increased, the want of current money 
was still more sensibly felt. To supply the demand, 
the general court passed a law for establishing a coin- 
age of shillings, sixpences, and threepences. Captain 
John Hull was appointed to manufacture this money, 
and was to have about one shilling out of every twenty 
to pay him for the trouble of making them. 

Hereupon all the old silver in the colony was 
handed over to Captain John Hull. The battered 
silver cans and tankards, I suppose, and silver buckles, 
and broken spoons, and silver buttons of worn-out 
coats, and silver hilts of swords that had figured at 
court, all such curious old articles were doubtless 
thrown into the melting-pot together. But by far the 
greater part of the silver consisted of bullion from the 
mines of South America, which the English buccaneers 
(who were little better than pirates) had taken from 
the Spaniards, and brought to Massachusetts. 

All this old and new silver being melted down and 
coined, the result was an immense amount of splendid 
shillings, sixpences, and threepences. Each had the 
date, 1652, on the one side, and the figure of a pine- 
tree on the other. Hence they were called pine-tree 
shillings. And for every twenty shillings that he 
coined, you will remember, Captain John Hull was 
entitled to put one shilling in his own pocket. 

The magistrates soon began to suspect that the 
mint-master would have the best of the bargain. They 



52 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

offered him a large sum of money if he would but give 
up that twentieth shilling which he was continually 
dropping into his own pocket. But Captain Hull 
declared himself perfectly satisfied with the shilling. 
And well he might be ; for so diligently did he labor 
that, in a few years, his pockets, his money bags, and 
his strong box were overflowing with pine-tree shil- 
lings. This was probably the case when he came into 
possession of Grandfather's chair ; and, as he had 
worked so hard at the mint, it was certainly proper 
that he should have a comfortable chair to rest him- 
self in. 

When the mint-master had grown very rich, a 
young man, Samuel Sewell by name, came a courting 
to his only daughter. His daughter — whose name I 
do not know, but w^e will call her Betsey — was a fine, 
hearty damsel, by no means so slender as some young 
ladies of our own days. On the contrary, having 
always fed heartily on pumpkin pies, doughnuts, Indian 
puddings, and other Puritan dainties, she was as round 
and plump as a pudding herself With this round, 
rosy Miss Betsey did Samuel Sewell fall in love. As 
he was a young man of good character, industrious in 
his business, and a member of the church, the mint- 
master very readily gave his consent. 

"Yes — you may take her," said he in his rough 
way, "and you will find her a heavy burden enough!" 

On the wedding day, we may suppose that honest 
John Hull dressed himself in a plum-colored coat, all 
the buttons of which were made of pine-tree shillings. 
The buttons of his waistcoat were sixpences ; and the 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 53 

knees of his small clothes were buttoned with silver 
threepences. Thus attired, he sat with great dignity 
in Grandfather's chair ; and, being a portly old gentle- 
man, he completely filled it from elbow to elbow. On 
the opposite side of the room, between her bridemaids 
sat Miss Betsey. She was blushing with all her might, 
and looked like a full blown poeony, or a great red ' 
apple. 

There, too, was the bridegroom, dressed in a fine 
purple coat and gold lace w^aistcoat, with as much other 
finery as the Puritan laws and customs would allow 
him to put on. His hair was cropped close to his 
head, because Governor Endicott had forbidden any 
man to wear it below the ears. But he was a very 
personable young man ; and so thought the bridemaids 
and Miss Betsey herself 

The mint-master also was pleased with his new son- 
in-law ; especially as he had courted Miss Betsey out 
of pure love, and had said nothing at all about her 
portion. So, when the marriage ceremony was over, 
Captain Hull whispered a word to two of his men-ser- 
vants, who immediately went out, and soon returned, 
lugging in a large pair of scales. They were such a 
pair as wholesale merchants used for weighing bulky 
commodities ; and quite a bulky commodity was now 
to be weighed in them. 

"Daughter Betsey," said the mint-master, "get 
into one side of these scales." 

Miss Betsey — or Mrs. Sewell, as we nmst now 
call her — did as she was bid, like a dutiful child, 
without any question of the why and wherefore. 



54 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR, 

But what her father could mean, unless to make 
her husband pay for her by the pound (in which 
case she would have been a dear bargain), she had 
not the least idea. 

"And now," said honest John Hull to the servants, 
"bring that box hither." 

The box to which the mint-master pointed was a 
huge, square, iron bound, oaken chest ; it was big 
enough, my children, for all four of you to play at 
hide-and-seek in. The servants tugged with might 
and main, but could not lift this enormous receptacle, 
and were finally obliged to drag it across the floor. 
Captain Hull then took a key from his girdle, unlocked 
the chest, and lifted its ponderous lid. Behold ! it was 
full to the brim of bright pine-tree shillings, fresh 
from the mint ; and Samuel Sewell began to think 
his father-in-law had got possession of all the money in 
the Massachusetts treasury. But it was only the mint- 
master's honest share of the coinage. 

Then the servants at Captain Hull's command, 
heaped double handfuls of shillings into one side of 
the scales, while Betsey remained in the other. Jin- 
gle, jingle, went the shillings, as handful after hand- 
ful was thrown in, till, plump and ponderous as she 
was, they fairly weighed the young lady from the 
floor. 

" There, son Sewell ! " cried the honest mint-mas- 
ter, resuming his seat in Grandfather's chair. " Take 
these shillings for my daughter's portion. Use her 
kindly, and thank Heaven for her. It is not every 
wife that's worth her weight in silver ! " 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 55 

The children laughed heartily at this legend, and 
would hardly be convinced but that Grandfather had 
made it out of his own head. He assured them faith- 
fully, however, that he had found it in the pages of a 
grave historian, and had merely tried to tell it in a 
somewhat funnier style. As for Samuel Sewell, he 
afterwards became Chief Justice of Massachusetts. 

"Well, Grandfather," remarked Clara, "if wedding 
portions now-a-days were paid as Miss Betsey's was, 
young ladies would not pride themselves upon an airy 
figure, as many of them do." 



CHAPTER VII. 

When his little audience next assembled round the 
chair. Grandfather gave them a doleful history of the 
Quaker persecution, which began in 1656, and raged 
for about three years in Massachusetts. 

He told them how, in the first place, twelve of the 
converts of George Fox, the first Quaker in the world, 
had come over from England. They seemed to be im- 
pelled by an earnest love for the souls of men, and 
a pure desire to make known what they considered 
a revelation from Heaven. But the rulers looked upon 
them as plotting the downfall of all government and 
religion. They were banished from the colony. In 
a little while, however, not only the first twelve had 
returned, but a multitude of other Quakers had come 
to rebuke the rulers and to preach against the priests 
and steeple-houses. 



56 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

Grandfather described the hatred and scorn with 
which these enthusiasts were received. They were 
thrown into dungeons ; they were beaten with many 
stripes, women as well as men ; they were driven 
forth into the wilderness, and left to the tender mer- 
cies of wild beasts and Indians. The children were 
amazed to hear that the more the Quakers were 
scourged, and imprisoned and banished, the more did 
the sect increase, both by the influx of strangers and 
by converts from among the Puritans. But Grand- 
father told them that God had put something into 
the soul of man, which always turned the cruelties of 
the persecutors to nought. 

He went on to relate that, in 1659, two Quakers, 
named William Robinson and Marmaduke Stephenson, 
were hanged at Boston. A woman had been sentenced 
to die with them, but was reprieved on condition of 
her leaving the colony. Her name was Mary Dyer. 
In the year 1660 she returned to Boston, although she 
knew death awaited her there ; and, if Grandfather 
had been correctly informed, an incident had then 
taken place which connects her with our story. This 
Mary Dyer had entered the mint-master's dwelling, 
clothed in sackcloth and ashes, and seated herself in 
our great chair with a sort of dignity and state. 
Then she proceeded to deliver what she called a mes- 
sage from Heaven, but in the midst of it they dragged 
her to prison. 

" And was she executed?" asked Laurence. 

" She was," said Grandfather. 

"Grandfather," cried Charley, clinching his fist, 




GEORGE FOX, 



58 GRANDFATHER' S CHAIR. 

" I would have fought for that poor Quaker woman !" 

" Ah ! but if a sword had been drawn for her," 
said L^aurence, " it would have taken away all the 
beauty of her death." 

It seemed as if hardly any of the preceding stories 
had thrown such an interest around Grandfather's 
chair as did the fact that the poor, persecuted, wander- 
ing Quaker woman had rested in it for a moment. 
The children were so much excited that Grandfather 
found it necessary to bring his account of the persecu- 
tion to a close. 

" In 1660, the same year in which Mary Dyer was 
executed," said he, " Charles the Second was restored 
to the throne of his fathers. This king had many 
vices ; but he would not permit blood to be shed, 
under pretence of religion, in any part of his domin- 
ions. The Quakers in England told him what had 
been done to their brethren in Massachusetts ; and he 
sent orders to Governor Endicott to forbear all such 
proceedings in future. And so ended the Quaker 
persecution, — one of the most mournful passages in 
the history of our forefathers." 

Grandfather then told his auditors, that, shortly 
after the above incident, the great chair had been 
given by the mint-master to the Rev. Mr. John Eliot. 
He was the first minister of Roxbury. But besides 
attending to the pastoral duties there, he learned the 
language of the red men, and often went into the 
woods to preach to them. So earnestly did he labor 
for their conversion that he has always been called 
the apostle to the Indians. The mention of this holy 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 59 

man suggested to Grandfather the propriety of giving 
a brief sketch of the history of the Indians, so far as 
they were connected with the English colonists. 

A short period before the arrival of the first Pil- 
grims at Plymouth there had been a very grievous 
plague among the red men ; and the sages and minis- 
ters of that day were inclined to the opinion that 
Providence had sent this mortality in order to make 
room for the settlement of the English. But I know 
not why we should suppose that an Indian's life is less 
precious, in the eye of Heaven, than that of a white 
man. Be that as it may, death had certainly been very 
busy with the savage tribes. 

In many places the English found the wigwams de- 
serted and the corn-fields growing to waste, with none 
to harvest the grain. There were heaps of earth also, 
which, being dug open, proved to be Indian graves, 
containing bows and flint-headed spears and arrows ; 
for the Indians buried the dead warrior's weapons 
along with him. In some spots there were skulls and 
other human bones lying unburied. In 1633, and the 
year afterwards, the small-pox broke out among the 
Massachusetts Indians, multitudes of whom died by 
this terrible disease of the old world. These misfor- 
tunes made them far less powerful than they had for- 
merly been. 

For nearly half a century after the arrival of the 
English the red men showed themselves generally in- 
clined to peace and amity. They often made submis- 
sion when they might have made successful war. 
The Plymouth settlers, led by the famous Captain 



6o GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

Miles Standish, slew some of them, in 1623, without 
any very evident necessity for so doing. In 1636, 
and the following year, there was the most dreadful 
war that had yet occurred between the Indians and 
the English. The Connecticut settlers, assisted by a 
celebrated Indian chief named Uncas, bore the brunt 
of this war, with but little aid from Massachusetts. 
Many hundreds of the hostile Indians were slain or 
burnt in their wigwams. Sassacus, their sachem, fled 
to another tribe, after his own people were defeated ; 
but he w^as murdered by them, and his head was sent to 
his English enemies. 

From that period down to the time of King Philip's 
war, which will be meutioned hereafter, there was not 
much trouble with the Indians. But the colonists were 
always on their guard, and kept their weapons ready 
for the conflict. 

" I have sometimes doubted," said Grandfather, 
when he had told these things to the children, " I 
have sometimes doubted whether there was more than 
a single man among our forefathers, who realized 
that an Indian possesses a mind, and a heart, and an 
immortal soul. That single man was John Eliot. All 
the rest of the early settlers seemed to think that the 
Indians were an inferior race of beings, whom the Cre- 
ator had merely allowed to keep possession of this 
beautiful country till the white men should be in 
want of it." 

" Did the pious men of those da3^s never try to make 
Christians of them ? " said Laurence. 

" Sometimes, it is true," answered Grandfather, 




CHARI,KS II. OF ENGLAND 



62 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

" the magistrates and ministers would talk about civil- 
izing and converting the red people. But, at the 
bottom of their hearts, they would have had almost 
as much expectation of civilizing the wild bear of the 
woods and making him fit for paradise. They felt no 
faith in the success of any such attempts, because they 
had no love for the poor Indians. Now, Eliot was 
full of love for them ; and therefore so full of faith 
and hope that he spent the labor of a lifetime in their 
behalf" 

" I would have conquered them first, and then con- 
verted them," said Charley. 

"Ah, Charley, there spoke the very spirit of our 
forefathers ! " replied Grandfather. " But Mr. Eliot had 
a better spirit. He looked upon them as his brethren. 
He persuaded as many of them as he could to leave 
off their idle and wandering habits, and to build houses 
and cultivate the earth, as the English did. He estab- 
lished schools among them and taught many of the In- 
dians how to read. He taught them, likewise, how to 
pray. Hence they were called ' praying Indians.' 
Finally, having spent the best years of his life for their 
good, Mr. Eliot resolved to spend the remainder in 
doing them a yet greater benefit." 

"I know what that was !" cried Laurence. 

" He sat down in his study," continued Grandfather, 
"and began a translation of the Bible into the Indian 
tongue. It was while he was engaged in this pious 
work that the mint-master gave him our great chair. 
His toil needed it and deserved it." 

"O Grandfather, tell us all about that Indian 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 63 

Bible ! " exclaimed Laurence. " I have seen it in tke 
library of the Athenaeum ; and the tears came into 
my eyes to think that there were no Indians left to 
read it." 



CHAPTER VIII. 

As Grandfather was a great admirer of the Apostle 
Eliot, he was glad to comply with the earnest request 
which Laurence had made at the close of the last 
chapter. So he proceeded to describe how good Mr. 
Eliot labored, while he was at work upon 

THE INDIAN BIBLE. 

My dear children, what a task would you think it, 
even with a long lifetime before you, were you bidden 
to copy every chapter, and verse, and word in yonder 
family Bible ! Would not this be a heavy toil ? But 
if the task were, not to write off the English Bible, but 
to learn a language utterly unlike all other tongues — a 
language which hitherto had never been learned, except 
by the Indians themselves, from their mothers' lips — a 
language never written, and the strange words of which 
seemed inexpressible by letters ; — if the task were, first 
to learn this new variety of speech, and then to trans- 
late the Bible into it, and to do it so carefully that not 
one idea throughout the holy book should be changed, 
— what would induce you to undertake this toil ? Yet 
this was what the Apostle Eliot did. 

It was a mighty work for a man, now growing old, 
to take upon himself. And what earthly reward could 



64 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

he expect from it ? None ; no reward on earth. But 
he believed that the red men were the descendants of 
those lost tribes of Israel of whom history has been 
able to tell us nothing for thousands of years. He 
hoped that .God had sent the English across the ocean, 
Gentiles as they were, to enlighten this benighted por- 
tion of his once chosen race. And when he should be 
summoned hence, he trusted to meet blessed spirits 
in another world, whose bliss would have been earned 
by his patient toil in translating the Word of God. 
This hope and trust were far dearer to him than any- 
thing that earth could offer. 

Sometimes, while thus at work, he was visited by 
learned men, who desired to know what literary un- 
dertaking Mr. Eliot had in hand. They, like himself, 
had been bred in the studious cloisters of a univer- 
sity, and were supposed to possess all the erudition 
which mankind has hoarded up from age to age. 
Greek and Latin were as familiar to them as the bab- 
ble of their childhood. Hebrew was like their mother 
tongue. They had grown gray in study ; their eyes 
were bleared wath poring over print and manuscript 
by the light of the midnight lamp. 

And yet, how much had they left unlearned ! Mr. 
Eliot would put into their hands some of the pages 
which he had been writing ; and behold ! the gray 
headed men stammered over the long, strange words, 
like a little child in his first attempts to read. Then 
would the apostle call to him an Indian boy, one of 
his scholars, and show him the manuscript which had 
so puzzled the learned Englishmen. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 65 

"Read this, my child," said he; "these are some 
brethren of mine, who would fain hear the sound of 
thy native tongue." 

Then would the Indian boy cast his eyes over the 
mysterious page, and read it so skilfully that it sounded 
like wild music. It seemed as if the forest leaves were 
singing in the ears of his auditors, and as if the roar 
of distant streams were poured through the young 
Indian's voice. Such were the sounds amid which the 
language of the red men had been formed ; and they 
were still heard to echo in it. 

The lesson being over, Mr. Eliot would give the 
Indian boy an apple or a cake, and bid him leap forth 
into the open air which his free nature loved. The 
apostle was kind to children, and even shared in their 
sports sometimes. And when his visitors had bidden 
him farewell, the good man turned patiently to his toil 
again. 

No other Englishman has ever understood the 
Indian character so well, nor possessed so great an 
influence over the New England tribes, as the apostle 
did. His advice and assistance must often have been 
valuable to his countrymen, in their transactions with 
the Indians. Occasionally, perhaps, the governor and 
some of the counsellors came to visit Mr. Eliot. Per- 
chance they were seeking some method to circumvent 
the forest people. They inquired, it may be, how they 
could obtain possession of such and such a tract of 
their rich land. Or they talked of making the Indians 
their servants, as if God had destined them for perpet- 
ual bondage to the more powerful white man. 



66 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR, 

Perhaps, too, some warlike captain, dressed in 
his buff-coat, with a corselet beneath it, accom- 
panied the governor and counsellors. Ivaying his 
hand upon his sword hilt, he would declare, that 
the only method of dealing with the red men was 
to meet them with the sword drawn and the musket 
presented. 

But the apostle resisted both the craft of the politi- 
cian and the fierceness of the warrior. 

" Treat these sons of the forest as men and breth- 
ren," he would say; "and let us endeavor to make 
them Christians. Their forefathers were of that 
chosen race whom God delivered from Egyptian bond- 
age. Perchance he has destined us to deliver the 
children from the more cruel bondage of ignorance 
and idolatry. Chiefly for this end, it may be, we were 
directed across the ocean." 

When these other visitors were gone, Mr. Eliot 
bent himself again over the half written page. He 
dared hardly relax a moment from his toil. He felt 
that, in the book which he was translating, there was 
a deep human as well as heavenly wisdom, which 
would of itself suffice to civilize and refine the savage 
tribes. lyct the Bible be diffused among them, and 
all earthly good would follow. But how slight a con- 
sideration was this, when he reflected that the eternal 
welfare of a whole race of men depended upon his 
accomplishment of the task which he had set himself! 
What if his hand should be palsied ? What if his 
mind should lose its vigor? What if death should 
come upon him ere the work were done ? Then 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 67 

must the red man wander in the dark wilderness of 
heathenism forever. 

Impelled by such thoughts as these, he sat writing 
in the great chair when the pleasant summer breeze 
came in through his open casement ; and also when 
the fire of forest logs sent up its blaze and smoke, 
through the broad stone chinnie}', into the wintry 
air. Before the earliest bird sang in the morning 
the apostle's lamp was kindled ; and, at midnight, 
his weary head was not yet upon its pillow. And 
at length, leaning back in tlie great chair, he could 
say to himself, with a holy triumph, — " The work is 
finished!" 

It was finished. Here was a Bible for the Indians. 
Those long lost descendants of the ten tribes of Israel 
would now learn the history of their forefathers. That 
grace which the ancient Israelites had forfeited was 
offered anew to their children. 

There is no impiety in believing that, when his 
long life was over, the apostle of the Indians was 
welcomed to the celestial abodes by the prophets of 
ancient days and by those earliest apostles and evan- 
gelists who had drawn their inspiration from the 
immediate presence of the Saviour. They first had 
preached truth and salvation to the world. And 
Eliot, separated from them by many centuries, yet 
full of the same spirit, had borne the like message 
to the new world of the West. Since the first days 
of Christianity, there has been no man more worthy 
to be numbered in the brotherhood of the apostle 
than Eliot. 



68 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

** My heart is not satisfied to think," observed Lau- 
rence, " that Mr. Eliot's labors have done no good 
except to a few Indians of his own time. Doubtless 
he would not have regretted his toil, if it were the 
means of saving but a single soul. But it is a grievous 
thing to me that he should have toiled so hard to trans- 
late the Bible, and now the language and the people 
are gone ! The Indian Bible itself is almost the only 
relic of both." 

'' Laurence," said his Grandfather, ''if ever you 
should doubt that man is capable of disinterested zeal 
for his brother's good, then remember how the apostle 
Eliot toiled. And if you should feel your own self- 
interest pressing upon your heart too closely, then 
think of Eliot's Indian Bible. It is good for the 
world that such a man has lived and left this emblem 
of his life." 

The tears gushed into the eyes of Laurence, and he 
acknowledged that Eliot had not toiled in vain. Lit- 
tle Alice put up her arms to Grandfather, and drew 
down his white head beside her own golden locks. 

" Grandfather," whispered she, " I want to kiss 
good Mr. Eliot ! " 

And, doubtless, good Mr. Eliot would gladly re- 
ceive the kiss of so sweet a child as little Alice, and 
would think it a portion of his reward in heaven. 

Grandfather now observed that Dr. Francis had 
written a very beautiful Life of Eliot which he ad- 
vised Laurence to peruse. He then spoke of King 
Philip's War, which began in 1675, and terminated 
with the death of King Philip, in the following year. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 69 

Philip was a proud, fierce Indian, whom Mr. Eliot had 
vainly endeavored to convert to the Christian faith. 

" It must have been a great anguish to the apostle," 
continued Grandfather, " to hear of mutual slaughter 
and outrage between his own countrymen and those 
for whom he felt the affection of a father. A few of 
the praying Indians joined the followers of King 
Philip. A greater number fought on the side of the 
English. In the course of the war the little commu- 
nity of red people whom Mr. Eliot had begun to civ- 
ilize was scattered, and probably never was restored 
to a flourishing condition. But his zeal did not grow 
cold ; and only about five years before his death he 
took great pains in preparing a new edition of the In- 
dian Bible." 

"I do wish. Grandfather," cried Charley, " you 
would tell us all about the battles in King Philip's 
war." 

"O, no!" exclaimed Clara. "Who wants to hear 
about tomahawks and scalping-knives ! " 

" No, Charley," replied Grandfather, " I have no 
time to spare in talking about battles. You must be 
content with knowing that it w^as the bloodiest war 
that the Indians had ever waged against the white 
men ; and that, at its close, the English set King 
Philip's head upon a pole." 

"Who was the captain of the English?" asked 
Charley. 

" Their most noted captain was Benjamin Church, 
— a very famous warrior," said Grandfather. " But 
I assure you, Charley, that neither Captain Churchy 



70 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

nor any of the officers and soldiers who fought in 
King Philip's War, did anything a thousandth part so 
glorious as Mr. Eliot did when he translated the Bible 
for the Indians." 

" Ivet Laurence be the apostle," said Charley to 
himself, "and I will be the captain." 



CHAPTER IX. 

The children were now accustomed to assemble 
round Grandfather's chair at all their unoccupied 
moments ; and often it was a striking picture to behold 
the white headed old sire, with this flowery wreath of 
young people around him. When he talked to them, 
it was the past speaking to the present, — or rather to 
the future, for the children were of a generation which 
had not become actual. Their part in life, thus far, 
was only to be happy and to draw knowledge from 
a thousand sources. As yet, it was not their time to 
do. 

Sometimes, as Grandfather gazed at their fair, 
unworldly countenances, a mist of tears bedimmed his 
spectacles. He almost regretted that it was necessary 
for them to know anything of the past or to provide 
aught for the future. He could have wished that they 
might be always the happy, youthful creatures who 
had hitherto sported around his chair, without inquir- 
ing whether it had a history. It grieved him to think 
that his little Alice, who was a flower-bud fresh from 
paradise, must open her leaves to the rough breezes of 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



the world, or ever open them in any clime. So sweet 
a child she was, that it seemed fit her infancy should 
be immortal ! 




SIR EDMUND ANDROS. 



But such repining were merely flitting shadows 
across the old man's heart. He had faith enough to 



72 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

believe, and wisdom enough to know, that the bloom 
of the flower would be even holier and happier than 
its bud. Even within himself — though Grandfather 
was now at that period of life when the veil of mor- 
tality is apt to hang heavily over the soul, — still, in 
his inmost being he was conscious of something that 
he would not have exchanged for the best happiness 
of childhood. It was a bliss to which every sort of 
earthly experience — all that he had enjoyed, or suf- 
fered, or seen, or heard, or acted, with the broodings 
of his soul upon the whole — had contributed some- 
what. In the same manner must a bliss, of which 
now they could have no conception, grow up within 
these children, and form a part of their sustenance for 
immortality. 

So Grandfather, with renewed cheerfulness, contin- 
ued his history of the chair, trusting that a profounder 
wisdom than his own would extract, from these flowers 
and weeds of Time, a fragrance that might last beyond 
all time. 

At this period of the story Grandfather threw a 
glance backward as far as the year 1660. He spoke 
of the ill-concealed reluctance with which the Puritans 
in America had acknowledged the sway of Charles the 
Second on his restoration to his father's throne. When 
death had striken Oliver Cromwell, that mighty pro- 
tector had no sincerer mourners than in New England. 
The new king had been more than a year upon the 
throne before his accession was proclaimed in Boston ; 
although the neglect to perform the ceremoney might 
have subjected the rulers to the charge of treason. 




THE PURITANS BEFORE JAMES I. OF ENGLAND. 



74 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

During the reign of Charles the Second, however, 
the American colonies had but little reason to com- 
plain of harsh or tyrannical treatment. But when 
Charles died, in 1685, and was succeeded by his 
brother James, the patriarchs of New England began 
to tremble. King James was a bigoted Catholic, and 
was known to be of an arbitrary temper. It was 
feared by all Protestants, and chiefly by the Puritans, 
that he would assume despotic power and attempt to 
establish Popery throughout his dominions. Our fore- 
fathers felt that they had no security either for their 
religion or their liberties. 

The result proved that they had reason for their 
apprehensions. King James caused the charters of all 
the American colonies to be taken away. The old 
charter of Massachusetts, which the people regarded as 
a holy thing and as the foundation of all their liberties, 
was declared void. The colonists were now no longer 
freemen ; they were entirely dependent on the king's 
pleasure. At first, in 1685, King James appointed 
Joseph Dudley, a native of Massachusetts, to be presi- 
dent of New England. But soon afterwards Sir Ed- 
mund Andros, an officer of the English army, arrived, 
with a commission to be governor-general of New 
England and New York. 

The king had given such powers to Sir Edmund 
Andros that there was now no liberty, nor scarcely 
any law, in the colonies over which h^ ruled. The 
inhabitants were not allowed to choose representatives, 
and consequently had no voice whatever in the gov- 
ernment, nor control over the measures that were 




BRADFORD'S MONUMENT AT NEW PI^YMOUTH. 



•]6 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

adopted. The counsellors with whom the governor 
consulted on matters of state were appointed by him- 
self. This sort of government was no better than an 
absolute despotism. 

"The people suffered much wrong while Sir Ed- 
mund Andros ruled over them," continued Grand- 
father ; "and they were apprehensive of much more. 
He had brought some soldiers with him from England, 
who took possession of the old fortress on Castle Island 
and of the fortification on Fort Hill. Sometimes it 
was rumored that a general massacre of the inhabi- 
tants was to be perpetrated by these soldiers. There 
were reports, too, that all the ministers were to be 
slain or imprisoned." 

"For what?" inquired Charley. 

"Because they were the leaders of the people, 
Charley," said Grandfather. " A minister was a more 
formidable man than a general in those days. Well ; 
while these things were going on in America, King 
James had so misgoverned the people of England that 
they sent over to Holland for the Prince of Orange. 
He had married the king's daughter, and was therefore 
considered to have a claim to the crown. On his 
arrival in England, the Prince of Orange w^as pro- 
claimed king, by the name of William the Third. 
Poor old King James made his escape to France." 

Grandfather told how, at the first intelligence of 
the landing of the Prince of Orange in England, the 
people of Massachusetts rose in their strength and 
overthrew the government of Sir Edmund Andros. 
He, with Joseph Dudley, Edmund Randolph, and his 




COMMISSIONERS I.ANDING AT BOSTON. 



78 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

other principal adherents, was thrown into prison. 
Old Simon Bradstreet, who had been governor when 
King James took away the charter, was called by the 
people to govern them again. 

" Governor Bradstreet was a venerable old man, 
nearly ninety years of age," said Grandfather. " He 
came over with the first settlers, and had been the inti- 
mate companion of all those excellent and famous men 
who laid the foundation of our country. They were 
all gone before him to the grave ; and Bradstreet was 
the last of the Puritans." 

Grandfather paused a moment and smiled, as if he 
had something very interesting to tell his auditors. 
He then proceeded : 

"And now, Laurence, — now, Clara, — now, Char- 
ley, — now, my dear little Alice, — what chair do you 
think had been placed in the council chamber, for 
old Governor Bradstreet to take his seat in ? Would 
you believe that it was this very chair in which grand- 
father now sits, and of which he is telling you the 
history?" 

"I am glad to hear it, with all my heart!" cried 
Charley, after a shout of delight. " I thought Grand- 
father had quite forgotten the chair." 

" It was a solemn and affecting sight," said Grand- 
father, " when this venerable patriarch, with his white 
beard flowing down upon his breast, took his seat in 
his Chair of State. Within his remembrance, and 
even since his mature age, the site where now stood 
the populous town had been a wild and forest-covered 
peninsula. The province, now so fertile and spotted 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 79 

with thriving villages, had been a desert wilderness. 
He was surrounded by a shouting multitude, most of 
whom had been born in the country which he had 
helped to found. They were of one generation, he of 
another. As the old man looked upon them, and 
beheld new faces everywhere, he must have felt that it 
was now time for him to go whither his brethren had 
gone before him." 

"Were the former governors all dead and gone?" 
asked Laurence. 

"All of them," replied Grandfather, " Winthrop 
had been dead forty years. Endicott died, a very old 
man, in 1665. Sir Henry Vane was beheaded, in 
London, at the beginning of the reign of Charles the 
Second. And Haynes, Dudley, Bellingham, and 
Leverett, who had all been governors of Massachu- 
setts, were now likewise in their graves. Old Simon 
Bradstreet was the sole representative of that departed 
brotherhood. There was no other public man remain- 
ing to connect the ancient system of governinent 
and manners with the new system which was about 
to take its place. The era of the Puritans was now 
completed." 

" I am sorry for it," observed Laurence ; " for, 
though they were so stern, yet it seems to me that 
there was something warm and real about them. I 
think, Grandfather, that each of these old governors 
should have his statue set up in our State House, 
sculptured out of the hardest of New England granite," 

" It would not be amiss, Laurence," said Grand- 
father ; " but perhaps clay, or some other perishable 



8o GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

material, might suffice for some of their successors. 
But let us go back to our chair. It was occupied by 
Governor Bradstreet from April 1689, until May, 1692. 
Sir William Phips then arrived in Boston with a new 
charter from King William and a commission to be 
governor. 

CHAPTER X. 

"And what became of the chair? " inquired Clara. 

"The outward aspect of our chair," replied Grand- 
father, " was now somewhat the worse for its long and 
arduous services. It was considered hardly magnifi- 
cent enough to be allowed to keep its place in the 
council chamber of Massachusetts. In fact, it was 
banished as an article of useless lumber. But Sir 
William Phips happened to see it, and, being much 
pleased with its construction, resolved to take the good 
old chair into his private mansion. Accordingly, with 
his own gubernatorial hands, he repaired one of its 
arms, which had been slightly damaged." 

" Why, Grandfather, here is the very arm ! " in- 
terrupted Charley, in great wonderment. " And did 
Sir William Phips put in these screws with his own 
hands ? I am sure he did it beautifully ! But how 
came a governor to know how to mend a chair? " 

" I will tell you a story about the early life of Sir 
William Phips," said Grandfather. "You will then 
perceive that he well knew how to use his hands." 

So Grandfather related the wonderful and true 
tale of 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 8i 

THE SUNKEN TREASURE. 

Picture to yourselves, my dear children, a hand- 
some, old-fashioned room, with a large, open cupboard 
at one end, in which is displayed a magnificent gold 
cup, with some other splendid articles of gold and 
silver plate. In another part of the room, opposite 
to a tall looking glass, stands our beloved chair, 
newly polished, and adorned with a gorgeous cushion 
of crimson velvet, tufted with gold. 

In the chair sits a man of strong and sturdy frame, 
whose face has been roughened by northern tempests 
and blackened by the burning sun of the West Indies. 
He wears an immense periwig, flowing down over his 
shoulders. His coat has a wide embroidery of golden 
foliage; and his waistcoat, likewise, is all flowered 
over and bedizened with gold. His red, rough hands, 
which have done many a good day's work with the 
hammer and adze, are half covered by the delicate lace 
ruffles at his wrists. On a table lies his silver-hilted 
sword ; and in the corner of the room stands his gold- 
headed cane, made of a beautifully polished West India 
wood. 

Somewhat such an aspect as this did Sir William 
Phips present when he sat in Grandfather's chair after 
the king had appointed him governor of Massachusetts. 
Truly, there was need that the old chair should be var- 
nished and decorated with a crimson cushion, in order 
order to make it suitable for such a magnificent look- 
ing personage. 

But Sir William Phips had not always worn a gold 



82 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

embroidered coat, nor always sat so much at his ease 
as he did in Grandfather's chair. He was a poor 
man's son, and was born in the province of Maine, 
where he used to tend sheep upon hills, in his boy- 
hood and youth. Until he had grown to be a man, 
he did not even know how to read and write. Tired 
of tending sheep, he next apprenticed himself to a 
ship-carpenter, and spent about four years in hewing 
the crooked limbs of oak trees into knees for vessels. 

In 1673, when he was twenty-two years old, he 
came to Boston, and soon afterwards was married to 
a widow lady, who had property enough to set him 
up in business. It was not long, however, before he 
lost all the money that he had acquired by his mar- 
riage, and became a poor man again. Still, he was 
not discouraged. He often told his wife that, some 
time or other, he should be very rich, and would build 
a " fair brick house " in the green lane of Boston. 

Do not suppose, children, that he had been to a 
fortune-teller to inquire his destiny. It was his own 
energy and spirit of enterprise, and his resolution to 
lead an industrious life, that made him look forward 
with so much confidence to better days. 

Several years passed away ; and William Phips had 
not yet gained the riches which he promised to him- 
self During this time he had begun to follow the sea 
for a living. In the year 1684 he happened to hear of 
a Spanish ship which had been cast away near the 
Bahama Islands, and which was supposed to contain a 
great deal of gold and silver. Phips went to the 
place in a small vessel, hoping that he should be able 




JAMES II. PROCI^AIMED AT BOSTON. 



84 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

to recover some of the treasure from the wreck. He 
did not succeed, however, in fishing up gold and silver 
enough to pay the expenses of his voyage. 

But, before he returned, he was told of another 
Spanish ship, or galleon, which had been cast away 
near Porto de la Plata. She had now lain as much as 
fifty years beneath the waves. This old ship had been 
laden with immense wealth ; and, hitherto, nobody 
had thought of the possibility of recovering any part 
of it from the deep sea which was rolling and tossing 
it about. But though it was now an old story, and 
the most aged people had almost forgotten that such 
a vessel had been wrecked, William Phips resolved 
that the sunken treasure should again be brought to 
light. 

He went to London and obtained admittance to 
King James, who had not yet been driven from his 
throne. He told the king of the vast wealth that was 
lying at the bottom of the sea. King James listened 
with attention, and thought this a fine opportunity to 
fill his treasury with Spanish gold. He appointed 
William Phips to be captain of a vessel, called the 
" Rose Algier," carrying eighteen guns and ninety-five 
men. So now he was Captain Phips of the English 
navy. 

Captain Phips sailed from England in the " Rose 
Algier," and cruised for nearly two years in the West 
Indies, endeavoring to find the wreck of the Spanish 
ship. But the sea is so wide and deep that it is no 
easy matter to discover the exact spot where a sunken 
vessel lies. The prospect of success seemed very 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 85 

small ; and most people would have thought that 
Captain Phips was as far from having money enough 
to build a "fair brick house" as he was while he 
tended sheep. 

The seamen of the " Rose Algier" became discour- 
aged, and gave up all hope of making their fortunes by 
discovering the Spanish wreck. They wanted to 
compel Captain Phips to turn pirate. There was a 
much better prospect, they thought, of growing rich 
by plundering vessels which still sailed in the sea 
than by seeking for a ship that had lain beneath the 
waves full half a century. They broke out in open 
mutiny, but were finally mastered by Phips, and com- 
pelled to obey his orders. It would have been danger- 
ous, however, to continue much longer at sea with 
such a crew of mutinous sailors ; and, besides, the 
" Rose Algier" was leaky and unsea worthy. So Cap- 
tain Phips judged it best to return to England. 

Before leaving the West Indies, he met with a 
Spaniard, an old man, who remembered the wreck of 
the. Spanish ship, and gave him directions how to find 
the very spot. It was on a reef of rocks, a few lea|^ues 
from Porto de la Plata. 

On his arrival in England, therefore, Captain Phips 
solicited the king to let him have another vessel and 
send him back again to the West Indies. But King 
James, who had probably expected that the " Rose Al- 
gier" would return laden with gold, refused to have 
anything more to do with the affair. Phips might 
never have been able to renew the search if the Duke 
of Albemarle and some other noblemen had not lent 



86 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

their assistance. They fitted out a ship, and gave the 
command to Captain Phips. He sailed from England, 
and arrived safely at Porto de la Plata, where he took 
an adze and assisted his men to build a large boat. 

The boat was intended for the purpose of going 
closer to the reef of rocks than a large vessel could 
safely venture. When it was finished, the captain 
sent several men in it to examine the spot where the 
Spanish ship was said to have been wrecked. They 
were accompanied by some Indians, who were skilful 
divers, and could go down a great way into the depths 
of the sea. 

The boat's crew proceeded to the reef of rocks, and 
rowed round and round it a great many times. They 
gazed down into the water, which was so transparent 
that it seemed as if they could have seen the gold and 
silver at the bottom, had there been any of those pre- 
cious metals there. Nothing, however, could they 
see ; nothing more valuable than a curious sea shrub, 
which was growing beneath the water, in a crevice of 
the reef of rocks. It flaunted to and fro with the 
swell and reflux of the waves, and looked as bright 
and beautiful as if its leaves were gold. 

" We won't go back empty-handed," cried an Eng- 
lish sailor ; and then he spoke to one of the Indian 
divers. " Dive down and bring me that pretty sea 
shrub there. That's the only treasure we shall find ! " 

Down plunged the diver, and soon rose dripping 
from the water, holding the sea shrub in his hand. 
But he had learned some news at the bottom of the sea. 

" There are some ship's guns," said he, the moment 




JAMES II. OF ENGI^AND. 



88 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

he had drawn breath, *' some great cannon, among the 
rocks, near where the shrub was growing." 

No sooner had he spoken than the English sailors 
knew that they had found the very spot where the 
Spanish galleon had been wrecked, so many years 
before. The other Indian divers immediately plunged 
over the boat's side and swam headlong down, groping 
among the rocks and sunken cannon. In a few mo- 
ments one of them rose above the water with a heavy 
lump of silver in his arms. That single lump was 
worth more than a thousand dollars. The sailors took 
it into the boat, and then rowed back as speedily as 
they could, being in haste to inform Captain Phips of 
their good luck. 

But, confidently as the Captain had hoped to find 
the Spanish wreck, yet, now that it was really found, 
the news seemed to good to be true. He could not 
believe it till the sailors showed him the lump of 
silver. 

'' Thanks be to God !" then cries Captain Phips. 
'^ We shall every man of us make our fortunes !" 

Hereupon the captain and all the crew set to work, 
with iron rakes and great hooks and lines, fishing for 
gold and silver at the bottom of the sea. Up came 
the treasure in abundance. Now they beheld a table 
of solid silver, once the property of an old Spanish 
Grandee. Now they found a sacramental vessel, which 
had been destined as a gift to some Catholic church. 
Now they drew up a golden cup, fit for the king of 
Spain to drink his wine out of Perhaps the bony 
hand of its former owner had been grasping the pre- 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. • 89 

cious cup, and was drawn up along with it. Now 
their rakes or fishing-lines were loaded with masses of 
silver bullion. There were also precious stones among 
the treasure, glittering and sparkling, so that it is a 
wonder how their radiance could have been concealed. 

There is something sad and terrible in the idea of 
snatching all this wealth from the devouring ocean, 
which had possessed it for such a length of years. It 
seems that men have no right to make themselves rich 
with it. It ought to have been left with the skeletons 
of the ancient Spaniards, who had been drowned 
when the ship was wrecked, and whose bones were 
now scattered among the gold and silver. 

But Captain Phips and his crew were troubled with 
no such thoughts as these. After a day or two they 
lighted on another part of the wreck, where they 
found a great many bags of silver dollars. But 
nobody could have guessed that these were money- 
bags. By remaining so long in the salt-water, they 
had ' become covered over with a crust which had the 
appearance of stone, so that it was necessary to break 
them in pieces with hammers and axes. When this 
was done, a stream of silver dollars gushed out upon 
the deck of the vessel. 

The whole value of the recovered treasure, plate, 
bullion, precious stones, and all, was estimated at more 
than two millions of dollars. It was dangerous even 
to look at such a vast amount of wealth. A sea cap- 
tain, who had assisted Phips in the enterprise, utterly 
lost his reason at the sight of it. He died two years 
afterwards, still raving about the treasures that lie at 



90 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

the bottom of the sea. It would have been better 
for this man if he had left the skeletons of the ship- 
wrecked Spaniards in quiet possession of their wealth. 

Captain Phips and his men continued to fish up 
plate, bullion, and dollars, as plentifully as ever, till 
their provisions grew short. Then, as they could not 
feed upon gold and silver any more than old King 
Midas could, they found it necessary to go in search 
of better sustenance. Phips resolved to return to 
England. He arrived there in 1687, and was received 
with great joy by the Duke of Albermarle and other 
English lords who had fitted out the vessel. Well 
they might rejoice ; for they took by far the greater 
part of the treasure to themselves. 

The captain's share, however, was enough to make 
him comfortable for the rest of his days. It also en- 
abled him to fulfill his promise to his wife, by build- 
ing a " fair brick house " in the Green Lane of Bos- 
ton. The Duke of Albemarle sent Mrs. Phips a 
magnificent gold cup, worth at least five thousand 
dollars. Before Captain Phips left London, King 
James made him a knight ; so that, instead of the 
obscure ship-carpenter who had formerly dwelt among 
them, the inhabitants of Boston welcomed him on 
his return as the rich and famous Sir William Phips. 



chaptf:r XI. 

" Sir William Phips," continued Grandfather, 
''was too active and adventurous a man to sit still 




MONK, DUKE OF AI^BEMARI^E. 



92 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

ill the quiet enjoyment of his good fortune. In the 
year 1690 he went on a military expedition against 
the French colonies in America, conquered the whole 
province of Acadie, and returned to Boston with a 
great deal of plunder. 

" Why, Grandfather, he was the greatest man that 
ever sat in the chair ! " cried Charley. 

" Ask Laurence what he thinks," replied Grand- 
father, with a smile. "Well; in the same year, Sir 
William took command of an expedition against Que- 
bec, but did not succeed in capturing the city. In 
1692, being then in London, King William III. ap- 
pointed him governor of Massachusetts. And now, 
my dear children, having followed Sir William Phips 
through all his adventures and hardships till we find 
him comfortably seated in Grandfather's chair, we 
will here bid him farewell. May he be as happy in 
ruling a people as he was while he tended sheep ! " 

Charley, whose fancy had been greatly taken by 
the adventurous disposition of Sir William Phips, was 
eager to know how he had acted and what happened 
to him while he held the office of governor. But 
Grandfather had made up his mind to tell no more 
stories for the present. 

"Possibly, one of these days, I may go on with 
the adventures of the chair," said he. " But its his- 
tory becomes very obscure just at this point ; and I 
must search into some old books and manuscripts be- 
fore proceeding further. Besides, it is now a good 
time to pause in our narrative ; because the new char- 
ter, which Sir William Phips brought over from Eng- 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



93 



land, formed a very important epoch in the history of 
the province." 

" Really, Grandfather," observed Laurence, " this 
seems to be the most remarkable chair in the world. 
Its history cannot be told without intertwining it with 
the lives of distinguished men and the great events 
that have befallen the country." 

"True, I^aurence," replied Grandfather, smiling. 
" We must write a book with some such title as this, 
— Memoirs of my own Times, by Grandfather's 
Chair." 

"That would be beautiful!" exclaimed Laurence, 
clapping his hands. 

"But, after all," continued Grandfather, "any other 
old chair, if it possessed memory and a hand to write 
its recollections, could record stranger stories than 
any that I have told you. From generation to 
generation, a chair sits familiarly in the midst of hu- 
man interests, and is witness to the most secret and 
confidential intercourse that mortal man can hold with 
his fellow. The human heart may best be read in the 
fireside chair. And as to external events. Grief and 
Joy keep a continual vicissitude around it and within 
it. Now we see the glad face and glowing form of 
Joy, sitting merrily in the old chair, and throwing a 
warm fire-light radiance over all the household. Now, 
while we thought not of it, the dark clad mourner. 
Grief, has stolen into the place of Joy, but not to 
retain it long. The imagination can hardly grasp so 
wide a subject as is embraced in the experience of a 
family chair." 



94 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

" It makes my breath flutter, — my heart thrill, — to 
think of it," said Laurence. " Yes ; a family chair 
must have a deeper history than a Chair of State." 

" O, yes ! " cried Clara, expressing a woman's feel- 
ing on the point in question ; " the history of a 
country is not nearly so interesting as that of a single 
family would be." 

" But the history of a country is more easily told," 
said Grandfather. " So, if we proceed with our narra- 
tive of the chair, I shall still confine myself to its con- 
nection with public events." 

Good old Grandfather now rose and quitted the 
room, while the children remained gazing at the chair. 
Laurence, so vivid was his conception of past times, 
would hardly have deemed it strange if its former 
occupants, one after another, had resumed the seat 
which they had each left vacant such a dim length of 
years ago. 

First, the gentle and lovely lady x\rbella would 
have been seen in the old chair, almost sinking out of 
its arms for very weakness ; then Roger Williams, in 
his cloak and band, earnest, energetic, and benevolent ; 
then the figure of Anne Hutchinson, with the like 
gesture as when she presided at the assemblages of 
women; then the dark, intellectual face of Vane, 
"young in years, but in sage coimsel old." Next 
would have appeared the successive governors, Win- 
throp, Dudley, Bellingham, and Endicott, who sat in 
the chair while it was a Chair of State. Then its 
ample seat would have been pressed by the comfort- 
able, rotund corporation of the honest mint-master. 




\VII,I,IAM III., PRINCE OF ORANGK. 



96 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

Then the half-frenzied shape of Mary Dyer, the per- 
secuted Quaker woman, clad in sackcloth and ashes, 
would have rested in it for a moment. Then the holy 
apostolic form of Eliot would have sanctified it. Then 
would have arisen, like the shade of departed Puri- 
tanism, the venerable dignity of the white-bearded 
Governor Brads treet. Lastly, on the gorgeous crim- 
son cushion of Grandfather's chair, would have shown 
the purple and golden magnificence of Sir William 
Phips. 

But, all these, with the other historic personages, in 
the midst of whom the chair had so often stood, had 
passed, both in substance and shadow, from the scene 
of ages ! Yet here stood the chair, with the old Lin- 
coln coat of arms, and the oaken flowers and foliage, 
and the fierce lion's head at the summit, the whole, 
apparently, in as perfect preservation as when it had 
first been placed in the Earl of Lincoln's hall. And 
what vast changes of society and of nations had been 
wrought by sudden convulsions or by slow degrees 
since that era ! 

" This chair had stood firm when the thrones of 
kings were overthrown!" thought Laurence. "Its 
oaken frame has proved stronger than many frames of 
government ! " 

More the thoughtful and imaginative boy might 
have mused ; but now a large yellow cat, a great 
favorite with all the children, leaped in at the open 
window. Perceiving that Grandfather's chair was 
empty, and having often before experienced its com- 
forts, puss laid herself quietly down upon the cushion. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



97 



Laurence, Clara, Charley, and little Alice all laughed 
at the idea of such a successor to the worthies of old 
times. 

"Pussy," said little Alice, putting out her hand, 
into which the cat laid a velvet paw, "you look very 
wise. Do tell us a story about Grandfather's 
Chair!" 




FAMOUS OLD PEOPLE. 

BEING THE SECOND EPOCH OF GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

CHAPTER I. 

OH, Grandfather, dear Grandfather," cried little 
Alice, "pray tell us some more stories about 
your chair ! " 

How long a time had fled since the children had 
felt any curiosity to hear the sequel of this venerable 
chair's adventures ! Summer was now past and gone, 
and the better part of autumn likewise. Dreary, chill 
November was howling out of doors, and vexing the 
atmosphere with sudden showers of wintry rain, or 
sometimes with gusts of snow, that rattled like small 
pebbles against the windows. 

When the weather began to grow cool. Grand- 
father's chair had been removed from the summer 
parlor into a smaller and snugger room. It now stood 
by the side of a bright, blazing wood-fire. Grand- 
father loved a wood-fire far better than a grate of glow- 
ing anthracite, or than the dull heat of an invisible 
furnace, which seems to think that it has done its 
duty in merely warming the house. But the wood- 
fire is a kindh', cheerful, sociable spirit, sympathizing 
with mankind, and knowing that to create warmth is 
but one of the good offices which are expected from it. 
Therefore it dances on the hearth, and laughs broadly 
through the room, and plays a thousand antics, and 



GRANDFATHER' S CHAIR. 99 

throws a joyous glow over all the faces that encircle it. 

In the twilight of the evening the fire grew 
brighter and more cheerful. And thus, perhaps, there 
was something in Grandfather's heart that cheered 
him most with its warmth and comfort in the gather- 
ing twilight of old age. He had been gazing at the 
red embers as intently as if his past life were all pic- 
tured there, or as if it were a prospect of the future 
world, when little Alice's voice aroused him. 

" Dear Grandfather," repeated the little girl, more 
earnestly, "do talk to us again about your chair." 

Laurence, and Clara, and Charley, and little Alice 
had been attracted to other objects for two or three 
months past. They had sported in the gladsome sun- 
shine of the present, and so had forgotten the shadowy 
region of the past, in the midst of which stood Grand- 
father's chair. But now, in the autumnal twilight, 
illuminated by the flickering blaze of the w^ood-fire, 
they looked at the old chair, and thought that it had 
never before worn such an interesting aspect. There 
it stood in the venerable majesty of more than two 
hundred years. The light from the hearth quivered 
upon the flowers and foliage that were wrought into its 
oaken back ; and the lion's head at the summit 
seemed almost to move its jaws and shake its mane. 

"Does little Alice speak for all of you? "asked 
Grandfather. " Do you wish me to go on with the 
adventures of the chair?" 

"Oh yes, yes. Grandfather!" said Clara. "The 
dear old chair ! How strange that we should have 
forgotten it so long ! " 



loo GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

*' Oh, pray begin, Grandfather," said Laurence, "for 
I think, when we talk about old times, it should be in 
the early evening, before the candles are lighted. The 
shapes of the famous persons who once sat in the chair 
will be more apt to come back, and be seen among 
us, in this glimmer and pleasant gloom, than they 
would in the vulgar daylight. And, besides, we can 
make pictures of all that you tell us among the glow- 
ing embers and white ashes. 

Our friend Charley, too, thought the evening the 
best time to hear Grandfather's stories, because he 
could not then be playing out of doors. So finding 
his young auditors unanimous in their petition, the 
good old gentleman took up the narrative of the 
historic chair at the point where he had dropped it. 



CHAPTER II. 

" You recollect, my dear children," said Grand- 
father, " that we took leave of the chair in 1692, while 
it was occupied by Sir William Phips. This fortunate 
treasure-seeker, you will remember, had come over 
from England, with King William's commission, to be 
governor of Massachusetts. Within the limits of this 
province were now included the old colony of Plym- 
outh and the territories of Maine and Nova Scotia. 
Sir William Phips had likewise bought a new charter 
from the king, which served instead of a constitution, 
and set forth the method in which the province was to 
be governed." 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. loi 

" Did the new charter allow the people all their 
former liberties?" inquired Ivaurence. 

" No," replied Grandfather. " Under the first charter, 
the people had been the source of all power. Win- 
throp, Endicott, Bradstreet, and the rest of them had 
been governors by the choice of the people, without 
any interference of the king. But henceforth the 
governor was to hold his station solely by the king's 
appointment and during his pleasure ; and the same 
was the case with the lieutenant-governor and some 
other high officers. The people, however, were still 
allowed to choose representatives ; and the governor's 
council was chosen by the general court." 

"Would the inhabitants have elected Sir William 
Phips," asked Laurence, '4f the choice of governor 
had been left to them?" 

" He might probably have been a successful candi- 
date," answered Grandfather ; "for his adventures and 
military enterprises had gained him a sort of renown, 
which always goes a great way with the people. And 
he had many popular characteristics, being a kind, 
warm-hearted man, not ashamed of his low origin nor 
haughty in his present elevation. Soon after his 
arrival, he proved that he did not blush to recognize 
his father's associates." 

" How was that ? " inquired Charley. 

" He made a grand festival at his brick house," 
said Grandfather, " and invited all the ship-carpenters 
of Boston to be his guests. At the head of the table, 
in our great chair, sat Sir William Phips himself, 
treating these hard handed men as his brethren, crack- 



I02 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

ing jokes with them, and talking familiarly about old 
times. I know not whether he wore his embroidered 
dress ; but I rather choose to imagine that he had on a 
suit of rough clothes, such as he used to labor in while 
he was Pliips the ship-carpenter." 

"An aristocrat need not be ashamed of the trade," 
observed lyaurence ; " for the czar Peter the Great once 
served an apprenticeship to it." 

" Did Sir William Phips make as good a governor 
as he was a ship-carpenter?" asked Charley. 

" History says but little about his merits as a 
ship-carpenter," answered Grandfather ; " but, as a 
governor, a great deal of fault was found with him. 
Almost as soon as he assumed the government he be- 
came engaged in a very frightful business, which 
might have perplexed a wiser and better cultivated 
head than his. This was the witchcraft delusion." 

And here Grandfather gave his auditors such de- 
tails of this melancholy affair as he thought it fit for 
them to know. They shuddered to hear that a frenzy, 
which lead to the death of many innocent persons, had 
originated in the wicked arts of a few children. They 
belonged to the Rev. Mr. Parris, minister of Salem. 
These children complained of being pinched and 
pricked with pins, and otherwise tormented by the 
shapes of men and women, who were supposed to 
have power to haunt them invisibly, both in darkness 
and day-light. (3ften in the midst of their family 
and friends the children would pretend to be seized 
with strange convulsions, and would cry out that the 
witches were afilictinQ^ them. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 103 

These stories spread abroad, and caused great tu- 
mult and alarm. From the foundation of New Eng- 
land, it had been the custom of the inhabitants, in all 
matters of doubt and difficulty, to look to their min- 
isters for counsel. So they did now ; but, unfortu- 
nately, the ministers and the wise men were more de- 
luded than the illiterate people. Cotton Mather, a 
very learned and eminent clerg}aiian, believed that 
the whole country was full of witches and wizards, 
who had given up their hopes of heaven, and signed a 
covenant with the Evil One. 

Nobody could be certain that his nearest neighbor 
or most intimate friend was not guilty of this imag- 
inary crime. The number of those who pretended 
to be afflicted by witchcraft grew daily more numer- 
ous ; and they bore testimony against many of the 
best and worthiest people. A minister, named George 
Burroughs, was among the accused. In the months of 
August and September, 1692, he and nineteen other 
innocent men and women were put to death. The 
place of execution was a high hill, on the outskirts of 
Salem ; so that many of the sufferers, as they stood 
beneath the gallows, could discern their own habita- 
tion in the town. 

The martyrdom of these guiltless persons seemed 
only to increase the madness. The afflicted now 
grew bolder in their accusations. Many people of 
rank and wealth were either thrown into prison or 
compelled to flee for their lives. Among these were 
two sons of old Simon Bradstreet, the last of the Pur- 
itan governors. Mr. Willard, a pious minister of Bos- 



I04 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

ton, was cried out upon as a wizard in open court. 
Mrs. Hale, the wife of the minister of Beverly, was 
likewise accused. Philip English, a rich merchant 
of Salem, found it necessary to take flight, leaving his 
property and business in confusion. But a short time 
afterwards, the Salem people were glad to invite him 
back. 

"The boldest thing that the accusers did," con- 
tinued Grandfather, " was to cry out against the gov- 
ernor's own beloved wife. Yes ; the lady of Sir Wil- 
liam Phips was accused of being a witch and of flying 
through the air to attend witch meetings. When the 
governor heard this he probably trembled, so that our 
great chair shook beneath him." 

" Dear Grandfather," cried little Alice, clinging 
closer to his knee, "is it true that witches ever come 
in the night-time to frighten little children?" 

"No, no, dear little Alice," replied Grandfather. 
"Even if there were any witches, they would flee 
away from the presence of a pure-hearted child. But 
there are none ; and our forefathers soon became 
convinced that they had been led into a terrible delu- 
sion. All the prisoners on account of witchcraft were 
set free. But the innocent dead could not be restored 
to life; and the hill where they were executed will 
always remind the people of the saddest and most 
humiliating passage in our history. 

Grandfather then said that the next remarkable 
event, while Sir William Phips remained in the chair, 
was the arrival at Boston of an English fleet in 1693. 
It brought an army which was intended for the con- 



io6 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

quest of Canada. But a malignant disease, more fatal 
than the small-pox, broke out among the soldiers and 
sailors, and destroyed the greater part of them. The 
infection spread into the town of Boston, and made 
much havoc there. This dreadful sickness caused the 
governor and Sir Francis Wheeler, who was com- 
mander of the British forces, to give up all thoughts 
of attacking Canada. 

" Soon after this," said Grandfather, " Sir William 
Phips quarrelled with the captain of an English 
frigate, and also with the Collector of Boston. Being 
a man of violent temper, he gave each of them a sound 
beating with his cane." 

" He was a bold fellow," observed Charley, who 
was himself somewhat addicted to a similar mode of 
settling disputes. 

"More bold than wis?," replied Grandfather; "for 
complaints were carried to the king, and Sir William 
Phips was summoned to England to make the best 
answer he could. Accordingly he went to London, 
where, in 1695, he was seized with a malignant fever, 
of which he died. Had he lived longer, he would 
probably have gone again in search of sunken treas- 
ure. He had heard of a Spanish ship, which was 
cast away in 1502, during the lifetime of Columbus. 
Bobadilla, Roldan, and many other Spaniards were 
lost in her, together with the immense wealth of which 
they had robbed the South American kings." 

" Why, Grandfather," exclaimed Laurence, "what 
magnificent ideas the governor had ! Only think of 
recovering all that old treasure which had lain almost 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 107 

two centuries under the sea ! Methinks Sir William 
Phips ought to have been buried in the ocean when he 
died, so that he might have gone down among the 
sunken ships and cargoes of treasure which he was al- 
ways dreaming about in his lifetime." 

" He was buried in one of the crowded cemeteries of 
London," said Grandfather. "As he left no children, 
his estate was inherited by his nephew, from whom is 
descended the present Marquis of Normany, Lord- 
Lieutenant of Ireland. The noble Marquis is not 
aware, perhaps, that the prosperity of his family origi- 
nated in the successful enterprise of a New England 
ship-carpenter." 

CHAPTER HL 

"At the death of Sir William Phips," proceeded 
Grandfather, " our chair was bequeathed to Mr. Eze- 
kiel Cheever, a famous school-master in Boston. This 
old gentleman came from London in 1637, and had 
been teaching school ever since ; so that there were 
now aged men, grandfathers like myself, to whom 
Master Cheever had taught their alphabet. He was a 
person of venerable aspect, and wore a long white 
beard." 

"Was the chair placed in his school?" asked Char- 
ley. 

" Yes, in his school," answered Grandfather ; " and 
we may safely say that it had never before been re- 
garded with such awful reverence, — no, not even when 
the old governors of Massachusetts sat in it. Even 



io8 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

you, Charley, my boy, would have felt some respect 
for the chair if you had seen it occupied by this fa- 
mous school-master." 

And here Grandfather endeavored to give his au- 
ditors an idea how matters were managed in schools 
above a hundred years ago. As this will probably be 
an interesting subject to our readers, we shall make a 
separate sketch of it, and call it 

THK OIvD-FASHIONED SCHOOL. 

'' Now, imagine yourselves, my children, in Master 
Kzekiel Cheever's school-room. It is a large, dingy 
room, with a sanded floor, and is lighted by windows 
that turn on hinges and have little diamond shaped 
panes of glass. The scholars sit on long benches, 
with desks before them. At one end of the room is a 
great fire-place, so very spacious that there is room 
enough for three or four boys to stand in each of the 
chimney corners. This was the good old fashion of 
fireplaces when there was wood enough in the forests 
to keep people warm without their digging into the 
bowels of the earth for coal. 

It is a winter's day when we take our peep into the 
school-room. See what great logs of wood have been 
rolled into the fireplace, and what a broad, bright 
blaze goes leaping up the chimney! And every few 
moments a vast cloud of smoke is puffed into the 
room, which sails slowly over the heads of the schol- 
ars, until it gradually settles upon the walls and ceil- 
ing. They are blackened with the smoke of many 
years already. 



no GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 

Next look at our old historic chair ! It is placed, 
you perceive, in the most comfortable part of the 
room, where the generous glow of the fire is suffi- 
ciently felt without being too intensely hot. How 
stately the old chair looks, as if it remembered its 
many famous occupants, but yet were conscious that 
a greater man is sitting in it now ! Do you see the 
venerable school-master, severe in aspect, with a 
black skullcap on his head, like an ancient Puritan, 
and the snow of his white beard drifting down to his 
very girdle ? What boy would dare to play, or whis- 
per, or even glance aside from his book, while Master 
Cheever is on the lookout behind his spectacles ! 
For such offenders, if any such there be, a rod of 
birch is hanging over the fire-place, and a heavy 
ferule lies on the master's desk. 

And now school is begun. What a murmur of 
multitudinous tongues, like the whispering leaves of 
a wind-stirred oak, as. the scholars con over their 
various tasks ! Buz ! buz ! buz ! Amid just such a 
murmur has Master Cheever spent above sixty years ; 
and long habit has made it as pleasant to him as the 
hum of a bee-hive when the insects are bus)^ in the 
sunshine. 

Now a class in Latin is called to recite. Forth 
steps a row of queer-looking little fellows, wearing 
square-skirted coats and small-clothes, with buttons at 
the knee. They look like so many grandfathers in 
their second childhood. These lads are to be sent 
to Cambridge and educated for the learned professions. 
Old Master Cheever has lived so long, and seen so 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. iii 

many generations of school-boys grow up to be men, 
that now he can ahnost prophesy what sort of a 
man each boy will be. One urchin shall hereafter 
be a doctor, and administer pills and potions, and 
stalk gravely through life, perfumed with assafoetida. 
Another shall wrangle at the bar, and fight his way to 
wealth and honors, and, in his declining age, shall be 
a worshipful member of his Majesty's council. A 
third — and he the master's favorite — shall be a worthy 
successor to the old Puritan ministers now in their 
graves ; he shall preach with great unction and effect, 
and leave volumes of sermons in print and manuscript, 
for the benefit of future generations. 

But, as they are merely school-boys now, their busi- 
ness is to construe Vergil. Poor Vergil, whose verses, 
which he took so much pains to polish, have been 
miss-conned, and mis-parsed, and mis-interpreted by 
so many generations of idle school-boys ! There, sit 
down, ye Latin ists. Two or three of you, I fear, are 
doomed to feel the master's ferule. 

Next comes a class in Arithmetic. These boys are 
to be merchants, shop-keepers, and mechanics of a 
future period. Hitherto they have traded only in 
marbles and apples. Hereafter some will send ves- 
sels to England for broadcloths and all sorts of manu- 
factured wares, and to the West Indies for sugar, and 
rum, and coffee. Others will stand behind counters, 
and measure tape, and ribbon, and cambric by the 
yard. Others will upheave the blacksmith's hammer, 
or drive the plane over the carpenter's bench, or take 
the lapstone and the awl and learn the trade of shoe- 



112 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

making. Many will follow the sea, and become bold, 
rough sea-captains. 

This class of boys, in short, must supply the world 
with those active, skilful hands, and clear, sagacious 
heads, without which the affairs of life would be 
thrown into confusion by the theories of studious and 
visionary men. Wherefore, teach them their multi- 
plication table, good Master Cheever, and whip them 
well when they deserve it ; for much of the country s 
welfare depends on these boys. 

But, alas ! while we have been thinking of other 
matters. Master Cheever's watchful eye has caught 
two boys at play. Now we shall see awful times. 
The two malefactors are summoned before the mas- 
ter's chair, wherein he sits with the terror of a judge 
upon his brow. Our old chair is now a judgment- 
seat. Ah, Master Cheever has taken down that ter- 
rible birch-rod ! Short is the trial, — the sentence 
quickly passed, — and now the judge prepares to exe- 
cute it in person. Thwack! thwack! thwack! In 
these good old times, a school-master's blows were 
well laid on. 

See ! the birch-rod has lost several of its twigs, and 
will hardly serve for another execution. Mercy on 
us, what a bellowing the urchins make ! My ears are 
almost deafened, though the clamor comes through 
the far length of a hundred and fifty years. There, 
go to your seats, poor boys ; and do not cry, sweet 
little Alice, for they have ceased to feel the pain a long 
time since. 

And thus the forenoon passes away. Now it is 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 113 

twelve o'clock. The master looks at his great silver 
watch, and then, with tiresome deliberation, puts the 
ferule into his desk. The little multitude await the 
word of dismissal with almost irrepressible impatience. 

" You are dismissed," says Master Cheever. 

The boys retire, treading softly until they have 
passed the threshold; but, fairly out of the school- 
room, lo, what a joyous shout! — what a scampering 
and tramping of feet !— what a sense of recovered free- 
dom expressed in the merry uproar of all their voices ! 
What care they for the ferule and birch-rod now? 
Were boys created merely to study Latin and arithme- 
tic? No; the better purposes of their being are to 
sport, to leap, to run, to shout, to slide upon the ice, 
to snow-ball. 

Happy boys ! Enjoy your playtime now, and come 
again to study and to feel the birch-rod and the ferule 
to-morrow; not till to-morrow; for to-day is Thurs- 
day lecture ; and, ever since the settlement of Massa- 
chusetts, there has been no school on Thursday after- 
noons. Therefore, sport, boys, while you may, for 
the morrow cometh, with the birch-rod and the ferule ; 
and after that another morrow, with troubles of its 
own. 

Now the master has set everything to rights, and 
is ready to go home to dinner. Yet he goes reluct- 
antly. The old man has spent so much of his life in 
the smoky, noisy, buzzing school-room, that, when he 
has a holiday, he feels as if his place were lost and 
himself a stranger in the world. But forth he goes ; 
and there stands our old chair, vacant and solitary, 



114 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

till good Master Cheever resumes his seat in it to-mor- 
row morning. 



"Grandfather," said Charley, "I wonder whether 
the boys did not use to upset the old chair when the 
schoolmaster was out." 

"There is a tradition," replied Grandfather, "that 
one of its arms was dislocated in some such manner. 
But I cannot believe that any school-boy would behave 
so naughtily." 

As it was now later than little Alice's usual bed- 
time. Grandfather broke off his narrative, promising 
to talk more about Master Cheever and his scholars 
some other evening. 



CHAPTER IV. 

Accordingly, the next evening, Grandfather resum- 
ed the history of his beloved chair. 

"Master Ezekiel Cheever," said he, "died in 1707, 
after having taught school about seventy years. It 
would require a pretty good scholar in arithmetic to 
tell how many stripes he had inflicted, and how many 
birch-rods he had worn out, during all that time, in 
fatherly tenderness for his pupils. Almost all the 
great men of that period, and for many years back, 
had been whipped into eminence by Master Cheever. 
Moreover, he had written a Latin Accidence, which 
was used in schools more than half a century after 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



115 



his death ; so that the good old man, even in his grave 
was still the cause of trouble and stripes to idle school- 
boys." 




COTTON MATHER. 



Grandfather proceeded to say, that, when IMaster 
Cheever died, he bequeathed the chair to the most 
learned man that was educated at his school, or that 
had ever been born in America. This was the 



ii6 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

renowned Cotton Mather, minister of the Old North 
Church in Boston. 

''And author of the Magnalia, Grandfather, which 
we sometimes see you reading," said I^aurence. 

" Yes, Laurence," replied Grandfather. " The 
Magnalia is a strange pedantic history, in which true 
events and real personages move before the reader 
with the dreamy aspect which they wore in Cotton 
Mather's singular mind. This huge volume, however, 
was written and published before our chair came into 
his possession. But as he was the author of more 
books than there are days in the year, we may con- 
clude that he wrote a good deal while sitting in this 
chair." 

" I am tired of these school-masters and learned 
men," said Charley. " I wish some stirring man, that 
knew how to do something in the world, like Sir 
William Phips, would sit in the chair." 

" Such men seldom have leisure to sit quietly in a 
chair," said Grandfather. " We must make the best 
of such people as we have." 

As Cotton Mather was a very distinguished man. 
Grandfather took some pains to give the children a 
lively conception of his character. Over the door of 
his library were painted these words — BE SHORT, — as 
a warning to visitors that they must not do the world 
so much harm as needlessly to interrupt this great 
man's wonderful labors. On entering the room you 
would probably behold it crowded, and piled, and 
heaped with books. There were huge, ponderous 
folios, and quartos, and little duodecimos, in English, 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 117 

Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Chaldaic, and all other lan- 
guages that either originated at the confusion of Babel 
or have since come into use. 

All these books, no doubt, were tossed about in 
confusion, thus forming a visible emblem of the man- 
ner in which their contents were crowded into Cotton 
Mather's brain. And in the middle of the room 
stood a table, on which, besides printed volumes, were 
strewn manuscript sermons, historical tracts, and po- 
litical pamphlets, all written in such a queer, blind, 
crabbed, fantastical hand, that a writing-master would 
have gone raving mad at the sight of them. By this 
table stood Grandfather's chair, which seemed to have 
contracted an air of deep erudition, as if its cushion 
were stuffed with Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, and other 
hard matters. 

In this chair, from one year's end to another, sat 
that prodigious bookworm. Cotton Mather, sometimes 
devouring a great book, and sometimes scribbling one 
as big. In Grandfather's younger days there used to 
be a wax figure of him in one of the Boston museums, 
representing a solemn, darked-visaged person, in a 
minister's black gown, and with a black-letter volume 
before him. 

'' It is difficult, my children," observed Granfather, 
" to make you understand such a character as Cotton 
Mather's, in whom there was so much good, and yet 
so many failings and frailties. Undoubtedly he was a 
pious man. Often he kept fasts ; and once, for three 
whole days, he allowed himself not a morsel of food, 
but spent the time in prayer and religious meditation. 



ii8 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

Many a live-long night did he watch and pray. These 
fasts and vigils made him meagre and haggard, and 
probably caused him to appear as if he had hardly be- 
longed to the world." 

" Was not the witchcraft delusion partly caused by 
Cotton Mather?" inquired Laurence. 

" He was the chief agent of the mischief," answered 
Grandfather ; " but we will not suppose that he acted 
otherwise than conscientiously. He believed that 
there were evil spirits all about the world. Doubtless 
he imagined that they were hidden in the corners and 
crevices of his librar}^, and that they peeped out from 
among the leaves of many of his books, as he turned 
them over, at midnight. He supposed that these 
unlovely demons were everywhere, in the sunshine as 
well as in the darkness, and that they were hidden in 
men's hearts, and stole into their most secret thoughts." 

Here Grandfather was interrupted by little Alice, 
who hid her face in his lap, and murmured a wish that 
he would not talk any more about Cotton Mather and 
the evil spirits. Grandfather kissed her and told her 
that the angels were the only spirits with which she liad 
anything to do with. He then spoke of the public 
affairs of the period. 

A new war between France and England had 
broken out in 1702, and had been raging ever since. 
In the course of it. New England suifered much injury 
from the French and Indians, who often came through 
the woods from Canada and assaulted the frontier 
towns. Villages were sometimes burned, and the 
inhabitants slaughtered, within a day's ride of Boston. 



I20 GRANDFATHER' S CHAIR. 

The people of New England had a bitter hatred 
against the French, not only for the mischief which 
they did with their own hands, but because they 
incited the Indians to hostility. 

The New Englanders knew that they could never 
dwell in security until the provinces of France should 
be subdued and brought under the English govern- 
ment. They frequently, in time of war, undertook 
military expeditions against Acadia and Canada, and 
sometimes beseiged the fortresses by which thpse ter- 
ritories were defended. But the most earnest wish of 
their hearts was to take Quebec, and so get possession 
of the whole province of Canada. Sir William Phips 
had once attempted it, but without success. 

Fleets and soldiers were often sent from England 
to assist the colonists in their warlike undertakings. 
In 17 lo Port Royal, a fortress of Acadia, was taken 
by the English. The next year, in the month of June, 
a fleet, commanded by Admiral Sir Hovenden Walker, 
arrived in Boston Harbor. On board of this fleet was 
the English General Hill, with seven regiments of 
soldiers who had been fighting under the Duke of 
Marlborough in Flanders. The government of Mas- 
sachusetts was called upon to find provisions for the 
army and fleet, and to raise more men to assist in tak- 
ing Canada. 

What with recruiting and drilling soldiers, there 
was now nothing but warlike bustle in the streets of 
Boston. The drum and fife, the rattle of arms, and 
the shouts of boys were heard from morning till night. 
In about a month the fleet set sail, carrying four regi- 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 121 

ments from New England and New York, besides the 
English soldiers. The whole army amounted to at 
least seven thousand men. They steered for the mouth 
of the river St. Lawrence. 

" Cotton Mather prayed most fervently for their 
'success," continued Grandfather, ''both in his pulpit 
and when he kneeled down in the solitude of his 
library, resting his face on our old chair. But Provi- 
dence ordered the result otherwise. In a few weeks 
tidings were received that eight or nine of the vessels 
were wrecked in the St. Lawrence, and that above 
a thousand drowned soldiers had been washed ashore 
on the banks of that mighty river. After this mis- 
fortune Sir Hovenden Walker set sail for England ; 
and many pious people began to think it a sin even to 
wish for the conquest of Canada." 

" I would never give it up so," cried Charley. 

'' Nor did they, as we shall see," replied Grand- 
father. " However, no more attempts were made 
during this war, which came to a close in 17 13. The 
people of New England were probably glad of some 
repose ; for their young men had been made soldiers, 
till many of them were fit for nothing else. And those 
who remained at home had been heavily taxed to pay 
for the arms, ammunition, fortifications, and all the 
other endless expenses of a war. There was great 
need of the prayers of Cotton Mather and of all pious 
men, not only on account of the sufferings of the peo- 
ple, but because the old moral and religious character 
of New England was in danger of being utterly lost." 

" How glorious it would have been," remarked Lau- 



122 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

rence, "if our forefathers could have kept the country 
unspotted with blood." 

" Yes," said Grandfather ; " but there was as tern, 
warlike spirit in them from the beginning. They 
seem never to have thought of questioning either the 
morality or piety of war." 

The next event which Grandfather spoke of was 
one that Cotton Mather, as well as most of the other 
inhabitants of New England, heartily rejoiced at. This 
was the accession of the Elector of Hanover to the 
throne of England, in 17 14, on the death of Queen 
Anne. Hitherto the people had been in continual 
dread that the male line of the Stuarts, who were 
descended from the beheaded King Charles and the 
banished King James, would be restored to the throne. 
In that case, as the Stuart family were Roman 
Catholics, it was supposed that they would attempt 
to establish their own religion throughout the British 
dominions. But the Elector of Hanover and all his 
race were Protestants ; so that now the descendants 
of the old Puritans were relieved from many fears and 
disquietude. 

"The importance of this event," observed Grand- 
father, " was a thousand times greater than that of a 
Presidential Election in our own days. If the people 
dislike their President, they may get rid of him in 
four years ; whereas a dynasty of kings may wear the 
crown for an unlimited period." 

The German elector was proclaimed king from the 
balcony of the town house in Boston, In' the title of 
George the First ; while the trumpets sounded, and 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 123 

the people cried Amen. That night the town was 
illuminated; and Cotton INIather threw aside book 
and pen, and left Grandfather's chair vacant, while 
he walked hither and thither to witness the rejoicings. 



CHAPTER V. 

" Cotton Mather," continued Grandfather, " was a 
bitter enemy to Governor Dudle}-, and nobody exulted 
more than he when that crafty politician was removed 
from the government, and succeeded by Colonel Shute. 
This took place in 17 16. The new governor had been 
an officer in the renowned Duke of IMarlborough's 
army, and had fought in some of the great battles in 
Flanders." 

" Now I hope," said Charley, " we shall hear of his 
doing great things." 

" I am afraid you will be disappointed, Charley," 
answered Grandfather. "It is true that Colonel 
Shute had probably never led so unquiet a life while 
fighting the French as he did now, while governing a 
province of Great Britain. But his troubles consisted 
almost entirely of dissensions with the Legislature. 
The king had ordered him to lay claim to a fixed 
salary ; but the representatives of the people insisted 
upon paying him only such sums from year to year 
as they saw fit." 

Grandfather here explained some of the circum- 
stances that made the situation of a colonial governor 
so difficult and irksome. There was not the same feel- 



124 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

ing towards the chief magistrate now that had existed 
while he was chosen by the free suffrages of the peo- 
ple. It was felt that as the king appointed the gov- 
ernor, and as he held his office during the king's 
pleasure, it would be his great object to please the 
king. But the people thought that a governor ought 
to have nothing in view but the best interests of those 
whom he governed. 

" The governor," remarked Grandfather, " had two 
masters to serve — the king, who appointed him ; and 
the people, on whom he depended for his pay. Few 
men in this position would have ingenuity enough to 
satisfy either party. Colonel Shute, though a good- 
natured, well-meaning man, succeeded so ill with the 
people, that, in 1722, he suddenly went away to Eng- 
land and made complaint to King George. In the 
meantime Ivieutenant-Governor Dummer directed the 
affairs of the province, and carried on a long and 
bloody war with the Indians." 

" But where was our chair all this time ?" asked 
Clara. 

" It still remained in Cotton Mather's library," re- 
plied Grandfather ; " and I must not omit to tell you 
an incident which is very much to the honor of this 
celebrated man. It is the more proper, too, that you 
should hear it, because it will show you what a terri- 
ble calamity the small-pox was to our forefathers. 
The history of the province (and, of course, the his- 
tory of our chair) would be incomplete without par- 
ticular mention of it." 

Accordingly Grandfather told the children a story, 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 125 

to which, for want of a better title, we shall give 
that of 

THE REJECTED BLESSING. 

One day, in 1721, Doctor Cotton Mather sat in his 
library reading a book that had been published by 
the Royal Society of L/ondon. But every few moments 
he laid the book upon the table, and leaned back in 
Grandfather's chair with an aspect of deep care and 
disquietude. There were certain things which troubled 
him exceedingly, so that he could hardly fix his 
thoughts upon what he read. 

It was now a gloomy time in Boston. That terri- 
ble disease, the small-pox, had recently made its 
appearance in the town. Ever since the first settle- 
ment of the country this awful pestilence had come at 
intervals, and swept away multitudes of the inhabi- 
tants. Whenever it commenced its ravages, nothing 
seemed to stay its progress until there were no more 
victims for it to seize upon. Oftentimes hundreds of 
people at once lay groaning with its agony ; and when 
it departed, its deep footsteps were always to be traced 
in many graves. 

The people never felt secure from this calamity. 
Sometimes, perhaps, it was brought into the country 
by a poor sailor, who had caught the infection in for- 
eign parts, and came hither to die and to be the cause 
of many deaths. Sometimes, no doubt, it followed in 
the train of the pompous governors when they came 
over from England. Sometimes the disease lay hidden 
in the cargoes of ships, among silks, and brocades, and 



126 ' GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

other costly merchandise which was imported for the 
rich people to wear. And sometimes it started up 
seemingly of its own accord, and nobody could tell 
whence it came. The physician, being called to 
attend the sick person, would look at him and say : — 
"It is the small-pox! let the patient be carried to the 
hospital." 

And now this dieadful sickness had shown itself 
again in Boston. Cotton Mather was greatly afflicted 
for the sake of the whole province. He had children, 
too, who were exposed to the danger. At that very 
moment he heard the voice of his youngest son, for 
whom his heart was moved vvdtli apprehension." 

"Alas ! I fear for that poor child," said Cotton 
Mather to himself " What shall I do for my son 
Samuel?" 

Again he attempted to drive away these thoughts 
by taking up the book which he had been reading. 
And now, all of a sudden, his attention became fixed. 
The book contained a printed letter that an Italian 
physician had written upon the very subject about 
which Cotton Mather was so anxiously meditating. 
He ran his eye eagerly over the pages ; and, behold, 
a method was disclosed to him by which the small-pox 
might be robbed of its worst terrors. Such a method 
was known in Greece. The physicians of Turkey, 
too, those long-bearded Eastern sages, had been 
acquainted with it for many years. The negroes of 
Africa, ignorant as they were, had likewise practised 
it, and thus had shown themselves wiser than the 
white men. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 127 

"Of a truth," ejaculated Cottou Mather, clasping 
his hands and looking up to heaven, ''it was a merci- 
ful Providence that brought this book under mine eye ! 
I will procure a consultation of physicians, and see 
whether this wondrous inoculation may not stay the 
progress of the destro}'er." 

So he rose from Grandfather's chair and went out 
of the library. Near the door he met his son Samuel, 
who seemed downcast and out of spirits. The boy 
had heard, probably that some of his pla}'mates were 
taken ill with the small-pox. But, as his father looked 
cheerfully at him, Samuel took courage, trusting that 
either the wisdom of so learned a minister would find 
some remedy for the danger, or else that his pra}'ers 
v/ould secure protection from on high. 

Meanwhile Cotton Mather took his staff and three- 
cornered hat and walked about the streets, calling at 
the houses of all the physicians in Boston. They 
were a very wise fraternity ; and their huge wigs, and 
black dresses, and solemn visages made their wisdom 
appear even pro founder than it was. One after another 
he acquainted them with the discovery which he had 
hit upon. 

But the grave and sagacious personages would 
scarcely listen to him. The oldest doctor in town 
contented himself with remarking that no such thing 
as inoculation was mentioned by Galen or Hippocrates ; 
and it was impossible that modern physicians should 
be wiser than those old savages. A second held up 
his hands in dumb astonishment and horror at the 
madness of what Cotton INIather proposed to do. A 



12B GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

third told him, in pretty plain terms, that he knew 
not what he was talking about. A fourth requested, in 
the name of the whole medical fraternity, that Cotton 
Mather would confine his attention to people's souls, 
and leave the physicians to take care of their bodies. 

In short, there was but a single doctor among them 
all who would grant the poor minister so much as a 
patient hearing. This was Doctor Zabdiel Boylston. 
He looked into the matter like a man of sense, and 
finding, beyond a doubt, that inoculation had rescued 
many from death, he resolved to try the experiment 
in his own family. 

And so he did. But when the other physicians 
heard of it they rose in great fury and began a war 
of words, written, printed, and spoken, against Cot- 
ton Mather and Doctor Boylston. To hear them talk, 
you would have supposed that these two harmless and 
benevolent men had plotted the ruin of the country. 

The people, also, took the alarm. Many, who 
thought themselves more pious than their neighbors, 
contended that, if Providence had ordained them to 
die of the small-pox, it was sinful to aim at prevent- 
ing it. The strangest reports were in circulation. 
Some said that Doctor Boylston had contrived a 
method for conveying the gout, rheumatism, sick- 
headache, asthma, and all other diseases from one 
person to another, and diffusing them through the 
whole community. Others flatly affirmed that the 
Evil One had gotten possession of Cotton Mather, and 
was at the bottom of the whole business. 

You must observe, children, that Cotton Mather's 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 129 

fellow citizens were generally inclined to doubt the 
wisdom of any measure that he might propose to 
them. They recollected how he had led them astray 
in the old witchcraft delusion ; and now, if he thought 
and acted ever so wisely, it was difficult for him to 
get the credit of it. 

The people's wrath grew so hot at his attempt to 
guard them from the small-pox that he could not walk 
the streets in peace. Whenever the venerable form 
of the old minister, meager and haggered with fasts 
and vigils, was seen approaching, hisses were heard, 
and shouts of derision, and scornful and bitter laugh- 
ter. The women snatched away their children from 
his path, lest he should do them a mischief Still, 
however, bending his head meekly, and perhaps 
stretching out his hands to bless those who reviled 
him, he pursued his way. But the tears came into his 
eyes to think how blindly the people rejected the 
means of safety that were offered them. 

Indeed, there were melancholy sights enough in 
the streets of Boston to draw forth the tears of a com- 
passionate man. Over the door of almost every dwell- 
ing a red flag was fluttering in the air. This was the 
signal that the small-pox had entered the house and 
attacked some member of the family ; or perhaps the 
whole family, old and young, were struggling at once 
with the pestilence. Friends and relatives, when they 
met one another in the streets, would hurry onward 
without a grasp of the hand or scarcely a word of 
greeting, lest they should catch or communicate the 
contagion ; and often a coffin was borne hastily along. 



130 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

"Alas, alas!" said Cotton Mather to himself, "what 
shall be done for this poor, misguided people? Oh 
that Providence would open their eyes, and enable 
them to discern good from evil!" 

So furious, however, were the people, that they 
threatened vengeance against any person who should 
dare to practice inoculation, though it were only in his 
own family. This was a hard case for Cotton Mather, 
who saw no other way to rescue his poor child Samuel 
from the disease. But he resolved to save him, even 
if his house should be burned over his head. 

"I will not be turned aside," said he. "My towns- 
men shall see that I have faith in this thing, when I 
make the experiment on my beloved son, whose life 
is dearer to me than my own. And when I have 
saved Samuel, peradventure they will be persuaded to 
save themselves. 

Accordingly Samuel was inoculated ; and so was 
Mr. Walter, a son-in-law of Cotton Mather. Doctor 
Boylston, likewise, inoculated many persons ; and 
while hundreds died who had caught the contagion 
from the garments of the sick, almost all were pre- 
served who followed the wise physician's advice. 

But the people were not yet convinced of their 
mistake. One night a destructive little instrument, 
called a hand-grenade, was thrown into Cotton Mather's 
window, and rolled under Grandfather's chair. It 
was supposed to be filled with gunpowder, the explo- 
sion of which would have blown the poor minister to 
atoms. But the best informed historians are of opinion 
that the grenade contained only brimstone and assa- 



132 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

foetida, and was meant to plague Cotton Mather with 
a very evil perfume. 

This is no strange thing in human experience. 
Men who attempt to do the world more good than the 
world is able entirely to comprehend are almost invari- 
ably held in bad odor. But yet, if the wise and good 
man can wait awhile, either the present generation or 
posterity will do him justice. So it proved in the case 
which we have been speaking of In after years, when 
inoculation was universally practised, and thousands 
were saved from death by it, the people remembered 
old Cotton Mather, then sleeping in his grave. They 
acknowledged that the very thing for which they had 
so reviled and persecuted him was the best and wisest 
thing he ever did. 

"Grandfather, this is not an agreeable story," 
observed Clara. 

"No, Clara," replied Grandfather. "But it is right 
that you should know what a dark shadow this disease 
threw over the times of our forefathers. And now, if 
you wish to learn more about Cotton Mather, you 
must read his biography, written by Mr. Peabody, of 
Springfield. You will find it very entertaining and 
instructive ; but perhaps the writer is somewhat too 
harsh in his judgment of this singular man. He 
estimates him fairly, indeed, and understands him well ; 
but he unriddles his character rather by acuteness than 
by sympathy. Now, his life should have been written 
by one who, knowing all his faults, would neverthe- 
less love him." 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 133 

So Grandfather made an end of Cotton Mather tell- 
ing his auditors that he died in 1728, at the age of 
sixty-five, and bequeathed the chair to Elisha Cooke. 
This gentleman was a famous advocate of the people's 
rights. 

The same year William Burnet, a son of the cele- 
brated Bishop Burnet, arrived in Boston with the com- 
mission of governor. He was the first that had been 
appointed since the departure of Colonel Shute. Gov- 
ernor Burnet took up his residence with Mr. Cooke 
while the Province House was undergoing repairs. 
During this period he was always complimented with 
a seat in Grandfather's chair; and so comfortable did 
he find it, that, on removing to the Province House, 
he could not bear to leave it behind him. Mr. 
Cooke, therefore, requested his acceptance of it. 

"I should think," said Laurence, "that the people 
would have petitioned the king always to appoint a 
native-born New Knglander to govern them." 

*' Undoubtedly it was a grievance," answered 
Grandfather, '' to see men placed in this station who 
perhaps had neither talents nor virtues to fit them for 
the country. The king generally bestowed the gover- 
norships of the American colonies upon needy noble- 
men, or hangers-on at court, or disbanded officers. The 
people knew that such persons would be very likely to 
make the good of the country subservient to the wishes 
of the king. The Legislature, therefore, endeavored 
to keep as much power as possible in their own hands, 
by refusing to settle a fixed salary upon the governors. 



134 GRANDFATHER'S CHATR. 

It was thought better to pay them according to their 
deserts." 

"Did Governor Burnet work well for his money?" 
asked Charley. 

Grandfather could not avoid smiling at the sim- 
plicity of Charley's question. Nevertheless, it put the 
matter in a very plain point of view. 

He then described the character of Governor Bur- 
net, representing him as a good scholar, possessed of 
much ability, and likewise of unspotted integrity. His 
story affords a striking example how unfortunate it is 
for a man, who is placed as ruler over a country, to be 
compelled to aim at anything but the good of the 
people. Governor Burnet was so chained down by 
his instructions from the king that he could not 
act as he might otherwise have wished. Consequently, 
his whole term of office was wasted in quarrels with 
the legislature. 

" I am afraid, children," said Grandfather, " that 
Governor Burnet found but little rest or comfort in 
our old chair. Here he used to sit, dressed in a coat 
which was made of rough, shaggy cloth outside, but 
of smooth velvet within. It was said that his own 
character resembled that coat ; for his outward manner 
was rough, but his inward disposition soft and kind. 
It is a pity that such a man could not have been kept 
free from trouble. But so harrassing were his disputes 
with the representatives of the people that he fell into 
a fever, of which he died in 1729. The legislature had 
refused him a salary while alive; but they appropri- 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 135 

ated money enough to give him a splendid and pom- 
pous funeral. 

And now Grandfather perceived that little Alice 
had fallen fast asleep, with her head upon his footstool. 
Indeed, as Clara observed, she had been sleeping from 
' the time of Sir Hovenden Walker's expedition against 
Quebec until the death of Governor Burnet, — a period 
of about eighteen years. And yet, after so long a nap, 
sweet little Alice was a golden-haired child of scarcely 
five years old. 

'' It puts me in mind," said Laurence, " of the story 
of the enchanted princess, who slept many a hundred 
years, and awoke as young and beautiful as ever." 



CHAPTER VI. 

A few evenings afterwards, cousin Clara happened 
to inquire of Grandfather whether the old chair had 
never been present at a ball. At the same time little 
Alice brought forward a doll, with whom she had been 
holding a long conversation. 

" See, Grandfather," cried she. " Did such a pretty 
lady as this ever sit in your great chair?" 

These questions led Grandfather to talk about the 
fashions and manners which now began to be intro- 
duced from England into the provinces. The sim- 
plicity of the good old Puritan times was fast 
disappearing. This was partly owing to the increas- 
ing number and wealth of the inhabitants, and to the 
additions which they continually received by the 



136 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

arrival and settlement of people from beyond the sea. 

Another cause of a pompous and artificial mode of 
life, among those who could afford it, was, that the 
example was set by the royal governors. Under the 
old charter, the governors were the representatives of 
the people, and therefore their way of living had prob- 
ably been marked by a popular simplicity. But now, 
as they represented the person of the king, they 
thought it necessary to preserve the dignity of their 
station by the practice of high and gorgeous cere- 
monials. And, besides, the profitable offices under 
the government were filled by men who had lived in 
L/ondon, and had there contracted fashionable and 
luxurious habits of living which they would not now 
lay aside. The wealthy people of the province imi- 
tated them ; and thus began a general change in social 
life. 

'' So, my dear Clara," said Grandfather, " after our 
chair had entered the Province House, it must often 
have been present at balls and festivals ; though I 
cannot give you a description of any particular one. 
But I doubt not that they were very magnificent ; and 
slaves in gorgeous liveries waited on the guests, and 
offered them wine in goblets of massive silver." 

" Were there slaves in those days ! " exclaimed 
Clara. 

" Yes, black slaves and white," replied Grandfather. 
"Our ancestors not only brought negroes from Africa, 
but Indians from South America, and white people 
from Ireland. These last were sold, not for life, but 
for a certain number of years, in order to pay the ex- 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 137 

penses of their voyage across the Atlantic. Nothing 
was more common than to see a lot of likely Irish girls 
advertised for sale in the newspapers. As for the little 
negro babies, they were offered to be given away like 
young kittens." 

" Perhaps Alice would have liked one to play with, 
instead of her doll," said Charley, laughing. 

But little Alice clasped the waxen doll closer to her 
bosom. 

" Now, as for this pretty doll, my little Alice," said 
Grandfather, " I wish you could have seen what splen- 
did dresses the ladies wore in those times. They had 
silks, and satins, and damasks, and brocades, and high 
head-dresses, and all sorts of fine things. And they 
used to wear hooped-petticoats of such enormous size 
that it was quite a journey to walk round them." 

"And how did the gentlemen dress?" asked Char- 
ley. 

" With full as much magnificence as the ladies," 
answered Grandfather. "For their holiday suits they 
had coats of figured velvet, crimson, green, blue, and 
all other gay colors, embroidered with gold or silver 
lace. Their waistcoats, which were five times as large 
as modern ones, were very splendid. Sometimes the 
whole waistcoat, which came down almost to the 
knees, was made of gold brocade." 

" Why, the wearer must have shone like a golden 
image!" said Clara. 

"And then," continued Grandfather, "they wore 
various sorts of periwigs, such as the Tie, the Spencer, 
the Brigadier, the Major, the Albemarle, the Ramil- 



138 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

lies, the Feather-top, and the Fall bottom! Their 
three cornered hats were laced with gold or silver. 
They had shining buckles at the knees of their small- 
clothes, and buckles likewise in their shoes. They 
wore swords with beautiful hilts, either of silver, or 
sometimes of polished steel, inlaid with gold." 

"Oh, I should like to wear a sword!" cried Char- 
ley. 

"And an embroidered crimson velvet coat," said 
Clara, laughing, " and a gold brocade waistcoat down 
to your knees ! " 

" And knee-buckles and shoe-buckles," said Lau- 
rence, laughing also. 

"And a periwig," added little Alice, soberly, not 
knowing what was the article of dress which she re- 
commended to our friend Charley. 

Grandfather smiled at the idea of Charley's sturdy 
little figure in such a grotesque caparison. He then 
went on with the history of the chair, and told the 
children that, in 1730, King George the Second 
appointed Jonathan Belcher to be governor of Massa- 
chusetts in place of the deceased Governor Burnet. 
Mr. Belcher was a native of the province, but had 
spent much of his life in Europe. 

The new governor found Grandfather's chair in the 
Province House. He was struck with its noble and 
stately aspect, but was of opinion that age and hard 
services had made it scarcely so fit for courtly company 
as when it stood in the Earl of Lincoln's hall. Where- 
fore, as Governor Belcher was fond of splendor, he 
employed a skillful artist to beautify the chair. This 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 139 

was done by polishing and varnishing it, and by gild- 
ing the carved work of the elbows, and likewise the 
oaken flowers of the back. The lion's head now shone 
like a veritable lump of gold. Finally Governor Bel- 
cher gave the chair a cushion of blue damask, with a 
rich golden fringe. 

*'Our good old chair being thus glorified," pro- 
ceeded Grandfather, "it glittered with a great deal 
more splendor than it had exhibited just a century 
before, when the Lady Arbella brought it over from 
England. Most people mistook it for a chair of the 
latest London fashion. And this may serve for an 
example, that there is almost always an old and time- 
worn substance under all the glittering show of new 
invention." 

"Grandfather, I cannot see any of the gilding," 
remarked Charley, who had been examining the chair 
very minutely. 

"You will not wonder that it has been rubbed of," 
replied Grandfather, "when you hear all the adven- 
tures that have since befallen the chair. Gilded it 
was ; and the handsomest room in the Province House 
was adorned by it." 

There was not nmch to interest the children in 
what happened during the years that Governor Belcher 
remained in the chair. At first, like Colonel Shute 
and Governor Burnet, he was engaged in disputing 
with the legislature about his salary. But, as he found 
it impossible to get a fixed sum, he finally obtained 
the king's leave to accept whatever the legislature 
chose to give him. And thus the people triumphed, 



I40 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

after this long contest for the privilege of expending 
their own money as they saw fit. 

The remainder of Governor Belcher's term of office 
was principally taken up in endeavoring to settle the 
currency. Honest John Hull's pine-tree shillings had 
long ago been worn out, or lost, or melted down 
again ; and their place was supplied by bills of paper 
or parchment, which were nominally valued at three- 
pence and upwards. The value of these bills kept 
continually sinking, because the real hard money could 
not be obtained for them. They were a great deal 
worse than the old Indian currency of clam shells. 
These disorders of the circulating medium were a 
source of endless plague and perplexity to the rulers 
and legislators, not only in Governor Belcher's days, 
but for many years before and afterwards. 

Finally the people suspected that Governor Belcher 
was secretly endeavoring to establish the Episcopal 
mode of worship in the provinces. There was enough 
of the old Puritan spirit remaining to cause most of 
the true sons of New England to look with horror 
upon such an attempt. Great exertions were made 
to induce the king to remove the governor. Accord- 
ingly, in 1740, he was compelled to resign his office, 
and Grandfather's chair into the bargain, to Mr. Shir- 
ley. 

CHAPTER VH. 

" William Shirley," said Grandfather, " had come 
from England a few years before, and begun to prac- 



GRA NDFA THER ' S CHA IR . 



i\^l 



tise law in Boston. You will think, perhaps, that, as 
he had been a lawyer, the new governor used to sit in 
our great chair reading heavy law-books from morning 
till night. On the contrary, he was as stirring and 
active a governor as Massachusetts ever had. Even 
Sir William Phips hardly equalled him. The first 
year or two of his administration was spent in trying 
to regulate the currency. But in 1744, after a peace 
of more than thirty years, war broke out between 
France and. England." 

" And I suppose, said Charley, " the governor went 
to take Canada." 

" Not exactly, Charley" said Grandfather ; " though 
you have made a pretty shrewd conjecture. He 
planned, in 1745, an expedition against Louisburg. 
This was a fortified city, on the island of Cape Breton, 
near Nova Scotia. Its walls were of immense height 
and strength, and were defended by hundreds of heavy 
cannon. It was the strongest fortress which the French 
possessed in America ; and if the king of France had 
guessed Governor Shirley's intentions, he w^ould have 
sent all the ships he could muster to protect it." 

As the siege of Louisburg was one of the most re- 
markable events that ever the inhabitants of New 
England were engaged in, Grandfather endeavored to 
give his auditors a lively idea of the spirit with which 
they set about it. We shall call his description 

THE PROVINCIAL MUSTER. 

The expedition against Louisburg first began to be 
thought of in the month of January. From that 



142 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

time the governor's chair was continually surrounded 
by counsellors, representatives, clergymen, captains, 
pilots, and all manner of people with whom he con- 
sulted about this wonderful project. 

First of all, it was necessary to provide men and 
arms. The legislature immediately sent out a huge 
quantity of paper money, with which, as if by magic 
spell, the governor hoped to get possession of all the 
old cannon, powder and balls, rusty swords and mus- 
kets, and everything else that would be serviceable in 
killing Frenchmen. Drums were beaten in all the 
villages of Massachusetts to enlist soldiers for the 
service. Messages were sent to the other governors 
of New England, and to New York and Pennsylvania, 
entreating them to unite in this crusade against the 
French. All these provinces agreed to give what as- 
sistance they could. 

But there was one very important thing to be de- 
cided. Who shall be the general of this great army ? 
Peace had continued such an unusual length of time, 
that there was now less military experience among the 
colonists than at any former period. The old Pur- 
itans had always kept their weapons bright, and were 
never destitute of warlike captains who were skillful 
in assault or defence. But the swords of their de- 
scendants had grown rusty by disuse. There was no- 
body in New England that knew anything about sieges 
or any other regular fighting. The only persons at all 
acquainted with warlike business were a few elderly 
men, who had hunted Indians through the underbrush 
of the forest in old Governor Dummer's war. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



143 



In his dilemma Governor Shirley fixed upon a 
wealthy merchant, named William Pepperell, who was 
pretty well known and liked among the people. As to 
military skill, he had no more of it than his neighbors. 
But, as the governor urged him very pressingly, Mr. 
Pepperell consented to shut his ledger, gird on a sword, 
and assume the title of general. 

Meantime, what a hubbub was raised by this scheme ! 
Rub-a-dub-dub ! Rub-a-dub-dub ! The rattle of drums, 
beaten out of all manner of time, was heard above 
every other sound. 

Nothing now was so valuable as arms, of whatever 
style and fashion they might be. The bellows blew, 
and the hammer clanged continually upon the anvil, 
while the blacksmiths were repairing the broken 
weapons of other wars. Doubtless some of the soldiers 
lugged out those enormous, heavy muskets which used 
to be fired, with rests, in the time of the early Puritans. 
Great horse-pistols, too, were found, which would go off 
with a bang like a cannon. Old cannon, with touch- 
holes almost as big as their muzzles, were looked upon 
as inestimable treasures. Pikes which, perhaps, had 
been handled by Miles Standish's soldiers, now made 
their appearance again. Many a young man ransacked 
the garret and brought forth his great-grandfather's 
sword, corroded with rust and stained with the blood 
of King Philip's War. 

Never had there been such an arming as this, when 
a people, so long peaceful, rose to the war with the 
best weapdps that they could lay their hands iipon. 
And still the drums were heard — Rub-a-dub-dub ! 



144 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

Rub-a-dub-dub ! — in all the towns and villages ; and 
louder and more numerous grew the tramping foot- 
steps of the recruits that marched behind. 

Rub-a-dub-dub ! And now the army began to 
gather into Boston. Tall, lanky, awkward fellows 
came in squads, and companies, and regiments, swag- 
gering along, dressed in their brown homespun 
clothes and blue yarn stockings. They stooped as if 
they still had hold of the plough-handles, and 
marched without any time or tune. Hither they 
came, from the corn-fields, from the clearing in the 
forest, from the blacksmith's forge, from the carpenter's 
workshop, and from the shoemaker's seat. They were 
an army of rough faces and sturdy frames. A trained 
officer of Europe would have laughed at them till his 
sides had ached. But there was a spirit in their 
bosoms which is more essential to soldiership than to 
wear red coats and march in stately ranks to the 
sound of regular music. 

Still was heard the beat of the drum, — rub-a-dub- 
dub ! — And now a host of three or four thousand men 
had found their way to Boston. Little quiet was 
there then ! Forth scampered the school-boys, shout- 
ing behind the drums. The whole town, the whole 
land, — was on fire with war. 

After the arrival of the troops, they were probably 
reviewed upon the common. We may imagine Gov- 
ernor Shirley and General Pepperell riding slowly 
along the line, while the drummers beat strange old 
tunes, like psalm-tunes, and all the officers and soldiers 
put on their most warlike looks. It would have been 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 145 

a terrible sight for the Frenchmen, could they but have 
witnessed it ! 

At length, on the twenty-fourth of March, 1745, 
the army gave a parting shout, and set sail from 
Boston in ten or twelve vessels which had been hired 
by the governor. A few days afterwards an English 
fleet, commanded by Commodore Peter Warren, sailed 
also for Louisburg to assist the provincial army. So 
now, after all this bustle of preparation, the town and 
province were left in stillness and repose. 

But stillness and repose, at such a time of anxious 
expectation, are hard to bear. The hearts of the old 
people and women sunk within them when they re- 
flected what perils they had sent their sons, and hus- 
bands, and brothers to encounter. The boys loitered 
heavily to school, missing the rub-a-dub-dub and the 
trampling march, in the rear of which they had so 
lately run and shouted. All the ministers prayed 
earnestly in their pulpits for a blessing on the army 
of New England. In every family, when the good 
man lifted up his heart in domestic worship, the bur- 
den of his petition was for the safety of those dear 
ones who were fighting under the walls of Louisburg. 

Governor Shirley all this time was probably in an 
ecstasy of impatience. He could not sit still a mo- 
ment. He found no quiet, not even in Grandfather's 
chair ; but hurried to-and-fro, and up and down the 
staircase of the Province House. Now he mounted 
to the cupola and looked sea-ward, straining his eyes 
to discover if there were a sail upon the horizon. 
Now, he hastened down the stairs, and stood beneath 
10 



146 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

the portal, on the red free-stone steps, to receive some 
mud-bespattered courier, from whom he hoped to hear 
tidings of the army. A few weeks after the departure 
of the troops. Commodore Warren sent a small vessel 
to Boston with two French prisoners. One of them 
was Monsieur Bouladrie, who had been commander of 
a battery outside of the walls of Louisburg. The 
other was the Marquis de la Maison Forte, captain of 
a French frigate which had been taken by Commodore 
Warren's fleet. These prisoners assured Governor 
Shirley that the fortifications of Louisburg were far 
too strong ever to be stormed by the provincial army. 

Day after day and week after week went on. The 
people grew almost heart-sick with anxiety; for the 
flower of the country was at peril in this adventurous 
expedition. It was now day-break on the morning of 
the third of July. 

But hark! what sound is this? The hurried clang 
of a bell ! There is the Old North pealing suddenly 
out ! — there the Old South strikes in ! — now the peal 
comes from the church in Brattle street ! — the bells 
of nine or ten steeples are all flinging their iron voices 
at once upon the morning breeze? Is it joy, or alarm? 
There goes the roar of a cannon, too ! A royal salute 
is thundered forth. And now we hear the loud exult- 
ing shout of a multitude assembled in the street. 
Huzza ! huzza ! Louisburg has surrendered ! Huzza ! 



"O Grandfather, how glad I shoiild have been to 
live in those times!" cried Charley. "And what 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 147 

reward did the king give to General Pepperell and 
Shirley?" 

"He made Pepperell a baronet; so that he was 
now to be called Sir William Pepperell," replied 
Grandfather. "He likewise appointed both Pepperell 
and Shirley to be colonels in the royal army. These 
rewards, and higher ones, were well deserved ; for this 
was the greatest triumph that the English met in the 
whole course of that war. General Pepperell became 
a man of great fame. I have seen a full length por- 
trait of him, representing him in a splendid scarlet 
uniform, standing before the walls of Louisburg, while 
several bombs are fallintj throug^h the air." 

"But did the country gain any real good by the 
conquest of Louisburg?" asked Ivaurence. "Or was 
all the benefit reaped by Pepperell and Shirley?" 

" The English Parliament," replied Grandfather, 
"agreed to pay the colonists for all the expenses of 
the siege. Accordingly, in 1749, two hundred and 
fifteen chests of Spanish dollars and one hundred 
casks of copper coin were brought from England to 
Boston. The whole amount was about a million of 
dollars. Twenty-seven carts and trucks carried this 
money from the wharf to the provincial treasury. 
Was not this a pretty liberal reward?" 

"The mothers of the young men who were killed 
at the siege of lyouisburg would not have thought it 
so," said Laurence. 

"No, Laurence," rejoined Grandfather, "and every 
warlike achievement involves an amount of physical 
and moral evil, for which all the gold in the Spanish 



148 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

mines would not be the slightest recompense. But 
we are to consider that this siege was one of the oc- 
casions on which the colonists tested their ability for 
war, and thus were prepared for the great contest of 
the Revolution. In that point of view, the valor of 
our forefathers was its own reward." 

Grandfather went on to say that the success of the 
expedition against Louisburg indiiced Shirley and 
Pepperell to form a scheme for conquering Canada. 
This plan, however, was not carried into execution. 

In the year 1746 great terror was excited by the 
arrival of a formidable French fleet upon the coast. 
It was commanded by the Duke d'Anville, and con- 
sisted of forty ships of war, besides vessels with sol- 
diers on board. With this force the French intended 
to re-take Louisburg, and afterwards to ravage the 
whole of New England. Many people were ready to 
give up the country for lost. 

But the hostile fleet met with so many disasters and 
losses by storm and shipwreck, that the Duke d'An- 
ville is said to have poisoned himself in despair. The 
officer next in command threw himself upon his sword 
and perished. Thus deprived of their commanders, 
the remainder of the ships returned to France. This 
was as great a deliverance for New England as that 
which Old England had experienced in the days of 
Queen Elizabeth, when the Spanish Armada was 
wrecked upon her coast. 

"In 1747," proceeded Grandfather, "Governor 
Shirley was driven from the Province House, not by 
a hostle fleet and army, but by a mob of the Boston 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 149 

people. They were so incensed at the conduct of the 
British Commodore Knowles, who had impressed 
some of their fellow-citizens, that several thousands 
of them surrounded the council chamber and threw 
stones and brickbats into the windows. The gov- 
ernor attempted to pacify them ; but not succeeding, 
he thought it necessary to leave the town and take 
refuge within the walls of Castle William. Quiet was 
not restored until Commodore Knowles had sent back 
the impressed men. This affair was a flash of spirit 
that might have warned the English not to venture 
upon any oppressive measures against their colonial 
brethren." 

Peace being declared between France and England 
in 1748, the governor had now an opportunity to sit 
at his ease in Grandfather's chair. Such repose, how- 
ever, appears not to have suited his disposition ; for, 
in the following year he went to England, and thence 
was dispatched to France on public business. Mean- 
while, as Shirley had not resigned his office, I^ieuten- 
ant-Governor Phips acted as chief magistrate in his 
stead. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

In the early twilight of Thanksgiving Eve came 
Laurence, and Clara, and Charley, and little Alice 
hand in hand, and stood in a semi-circle round Grand- 
father's chair. They had been joyous throughout 
that day of festivity, mingling together in all kinds of 
play, so that the house had echoed with their air)' mirth. 



I50 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR, 

Grandfather, too, had been happy though not 
mirthful. He felt that this was to be set down as 
one of the good Thanksgivings of his life. In truth, 
all his former Thanksgivings had borne their part in 
the present one ; for his years of infancy, and youth, 
and manhood, with their blessings and their griefs, 
had flitted before him while he sat silently in the 
great chair. Vanished scenes had been pictured in 
the air. The forms of departed friends had visited 
him. Voices to be heard no more on earth had sent 
an echo from the infinite and the eternal. These 
shadows, if such they were, seemed almost as real to 
him as what was actually present, — as the merry 
shouts and laughter of the children, — as their figures, 
dancing like sunshine before his eyes. 

He felt that the past was not taken from him. The 
happiness of former days was a possession forever. 
And there was something in the mingled sorrow of 
his lifetime that became akin to happiness, after being 
long treasured in the depths of his heart. There 
it underwent a change, and grew more precious than 
pure gold. 

And now came the children, somewhat aweary with 
their wild play, and sought the quiet enjoyment of 
Grandfather's talk. The good old sire rubbed his 
eyes and smiled round upon them all. He was glad, 
as most aged people are, to find that he was yet of 
consequence, and could give pleasure to the world. 
After being so merry all day long, did these children 
desire to hear his sober talk ? Oh, then, old Grand- 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR, 151 



father had yet a place to fill among living men,- 
at least among boys and girls ! 

" Begin quick, Grandfather," cried little Alice ; 
" for Pussy wants to hear you." 

And truly our yellow friend, the cat, lay upon the 
hearth rug, basking in the warmth of the fire, pricking 
up her ears, and turning her head from the children 
to Grandfather, and from Grandfather to the children, 
as if she felt herself very sympathetic with them all. 
A loud purr, like the singing of a tea-kettle or the 
hum of a spinning-wheel, testified that she was as com- 
fortable and happy as a cat could be. For Puss had 
feasted ; and therefore, like Grandfather and the chil- 
dren, had kept a good Thanksgiving. 

" Does Pussy want to hear me ?" said Grandfather, 
smiling. " Well, we must please Pussy, if we can." 

And so he took up the history of the chair from 
the epoch of the peace of 1748. By one of the pro- 
visions of the treaty, Louisburg, which the New Eng- 
landers had been at so much pains to take, was re- 
stored to the king of France. 

The French were afraid that, unless their colonies 
should be better defended than heretofore, another 
war might deprive them of the whole. Almost as 
soon as peace was declared, therefore, they began to 
build strong fortifications in the interior of North 
America. It was strange to behold these warlike cas- 
tles on the banks of solitary lakes and far in the 
midst of woods. The Indian, paddling his birch- 
canoe on Lake Champlain, looked up at the high ram- 
parts of Ticonderoga, stone piled on stone ; bristling 



152 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

with cannon, and the white flag" of France floating 
above. There were similar fortifications on Lake 
Ontario, and near the great Falls of Niagara, and at the 
sources of the Ohio River. And all around these forts 
and castles lay the eternal forest, and the roll of the 
drum died away in those deep solitudes. 

The truth was, that the French intended to build 
forts all the way from Canada to Louisiana. They 
would then have had a wall of military strength at 
the back of the English settlements so as completely 
to hem them in. The King of England considered 
the building of those forts as a sufficient cause of war, 
which was accordingly commenced in 1754. 

"Governor Shirley," said Grandfather, "had re- 
turned to Boston in 1753. While in Paris he had 
married a second wife, a young French girl, and now 
brought her to the Province House. But when war 
was breaking out it was impossible for such a bustling 
man to stay quietly at home, sitting in our old chair, 
with his wife and children round about him. He 
therefore obtained a command in the English forces." 

"And what did Sir William Pepperell do?" asked 
Charley. 

"He stayed at home," said Grandfather, "and was 
general of the militia. The veteran regiments of the 
English army which were now sent across the Atlan- 
tic would have scorned to fight under the orders of an 
old American merchant. And now began what aged 
people call the Old French War. It would be going 
too far astray from the history of our chair to tell you 
one-half of the battles that were fought. I cannot even 




♦WASHINGTON IN I772, AT THl, AGE OF FORTY.' 



154 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

allow myself to describe the bloody defeat of General 
Braddock, near the sources of the Ohio River, in 1755. 
But I must not omit to mention that, when the Eng- 
lish general was mortally wounded and his army 
routed, the remains of it were preserved by the skill 
and valor of GEORGE Washington." 

At the mention of this illustrious name the chil- 
dren started as if a sudden sunlight had gleamed upon 
the history of their country, now that the great De- 
liverer had arisen above the horizon. 

Among all the events of the Old French War, 
Grandfather thought that there was none more inter- 
esting than the removal of the inhabitants of Acadia. 
From the first settlement of this ancient province of 
the French, in 1604, until the present time, its people 
could scarcely ever know what kingdom held domin- 
ion over them. They were a peaceful race, taking no 
delight in warfare, and caring nothing for military 
renown. And }^et, in every war, their region was 
infested with iron-hearted soldiers, both French and 
English, who fought one another for the privilege of 
ill treating these poor, harmless Acadians. Sometimes 
the treaty of peace made them subjects of one king, 
sometimes of another. 

At the peace of 1748 Acadia had been ceded to 
England. But the French still claimed a large por- 
tion of it, and built forts for its defence. In 1755 
these forts were taken, and the whole of Acadia was 
conquered by three thousand men from Massachusetts, 
under the command of General Winslow. The in- 
habitants were accused of supplying the French with 



GRANDFATHER' S CHAIR. 155 

provisions, and of doing other things that violated 
their neutrality. 

" These accusations were probably true," observed 
Grandfather ; "for the Acadians were descended from 
the French, and had the same friendly feelings towards 
them that the people of Massachusetts had for the 
English. But their punishment was severe. The 
English determined to tear these poor people from 
their native homes and scatter them abroad." 

The Acadians were about seven thousand in num- 
ber. A considerable part of them were made pris- 
oners, and transported to the English colonies. All 
their dwellings and churches were burned, their cattle 
were killed, and the whole country was laid waste, so 
that none of them might find shelter or food in their 
old homes after the departure of the English. One 
thousand of the prisoners were sent to Massachusetts ; 
and Grandfather allowed his fancy to follow them 
thither, and tried to give his auditors an idea of their 
situation. 

We shall call this passage the story of 

THE ACADIAN EXII.ES. 

A sad day it was for the poor Acadians when the 
armed soldiers drove them, at the point of the bayonet, 
down to the sea-shore. Very sad were they, likewise, 
while tossing upon the ocean in the crowded transport 
vessels. But methinks it must have been sadder still 
when they were landed on the Long Wharf in Boston, 
and left to themselves on a foreign strand. 

Then, probably, they huddled together and looked 



156 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

into one another's faces for the comfort which was not 
there. Hitherto they had been confined on board of 
separate vessels, so that they conld not tell whether 
their relatives and friends were prisoners along with 
them. But now, at least, they could tell that many 
had been left behind or transported to other regions. 

Now a desolate wife might be heard calling for her 
husband. He, alas ! had gone, she knew not whither ; 
or perhaps had fled into the woods of Acadia, and had 
now returned to weep over the ashes of their dwelling. 

An aged widow was crying out in a querulous, 
lamentable tone for her son, whose affectionate toil had 
supported her for many a year. He was not in the 
crowd of exiles ; and what could this aged widow do 
but sink down and die? Young men and maidens, 
whose hearts had been torn asunder by separation, had 
hoped, during the voyage, to meet their beloved ones 
at its close. Now they began to feel that they were 
separated forever. And perhaps a lonesome little girl, 
a golden-haired child of five years old, the very picture 
of our little Alice, was weeping and wailing for her 
mother, and found not a soul to give her a kind word. 

Oh, how many broken bonds of affection were here ! 
Country lost ! — friends lost ! — their rural wealth of 
cottage, field, and herds all lost together ! Every tie 
between these poor exiles and the world seemed to be 
cut off at once. They must have regretted that they 
had not died before their exile ; for even the English 
would not have been so pitiless as to deny them graves 
in their native soil. The dead were happy ; for they 
were not exiles ! 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 157 

While they thus stood upon the wharf, the curios- 
ity and inquisitiveness of the New England people 
would naturally lead them into the midst of the poor 
Acadians. Prying busy-bodies thrust their heads into 
the circle wherever to or three of the exiles were con- 
versing together. How puzzled did they look at the 
outlandish sound of the French tongue ! There were 
seen the New England women, too. They had just 
come out of their warm, safe homes, where everything 
was regular and comfortable, and where their husbands 
and children would be with them at night-fall. Surely 
they could pity the wretched wives and mothers of 
Acadia! Or did the sign of the cross which the 
Acadians continually made upon their breasts, and 
which was abhorred by the descendants of the Puri- 
tans, — did that sign exclude all pity? 

Among the spectators, too, was the noisy brood of 
Boston school-boys, who came running, with laughter 
and shouts, to gaze at this crowd of oddly dressed 
foreigners. At first they danced and capered around 
them, full of merriment and mischief. But the 
despair of the Acadians soon had its effect upon these 
thoughless lads, and melted them into tearful sym- 
pathy. 

At a little distance from the throng might be seen 
the wealthy and pompous merchants whose warehouses 
stood on Long Wharf It was difficult to touch these 
rich men's hearts ; for they had all the comforts of 
the world at their command ; and when they walked 
abroad their feelings were seldom moved, except by 
the roughness of the pavement irritating their gouty 



158 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

toes. Leaning upon their gold-headed canes, they 
watched the scene with an aspect of composure. But 
let us hope they distributed some of their superfluous 
coin among these hapless exiles to purchase food and 
a night's lodging. 

After standing a long time at the end of the wharf, 
gazing seaward, as if to catch a glimpse of their lost 
Acadia, the strangers began to stray into the town. 

They went, we will suppose, in parties and groups, 
here a hundred, there a score, there ten, there three 
or four, who possessed some bond of unity among 
themselves. Here and there, was one, who, utterly, 
desolate, stole away by himself, seeking no compan- 
ionship. 

Whither did they go? I imagine them wandering 
about the streets, telling the townspeople, in outland- 
ish, unintelligible words, that no earthly affliction ever 
equalled what had befallen them. Man's brotherhood 
with man was sufficient to make the New Englanders 
understand this language. The strangers wanted food. 
Some of them sought hospitality at the doors of the 
stately mansions which then stood in the vicinity of 
Hanover Street and the North Square. Others were 
applicants at the humble wooden tenements, where 
dwelt the petty shopkeepers and mechanics. Pray 
Heaven that no family in Boston turned one of these 
poor exiles from their door ! It would be a reproach 
upon New England, — a crime worthy of heavy retri- 
bution, — if the aged women and children, or even the 
strong men, were allowed to feel the pinch of hunger. 

Perhaps some of the Acadians, in their aimless wan- 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 159 

derings through the town, found themselves near a 
large brick edifice, which was fenced in from the street 
by an iron railing, wrought with fantastic figures. 
They saw a flight of red free-stone steps ascending to 
a portal, above which was a balcony and balustrade. 
Misery and desolation give men the right of free pas- 
sage everywhere. Let us suppose, then, that they 
mounted the flight of steps and passed into the Prov- 
ince House. Making their way into one of the apart- 
ments, they iDeheld a richly clad gentleman, seated in 
a stately chair, with gilding upon the carved work of 
its back, and a gilded lion's head at the summit. This 
was Governor Shirley, meditating upon matters of war 
and state, in Grandfather's chair ! 

If such an incident did happen, Shirley, reflecting 
what a ruin of peaceful and humble hopes had been 
wrought by the cold policy of the statesman and the 
iron hand of the warrior, might have drawn a deep 
moral from it. It should have taught him that the 
poor man's hearth is sacred, and that armies and 
nations have no right to violate it. It should have 
made him feel that England's triumph and increased 
dominion could not compensate to makind nor atone 
to Heaven for the ashes of a single Acadian cottage. 
But it is not thus that statesmen and warriors mor- 
alize. 

"Grandfather," cried Laurence, with emotion tremb- 
ling in his voice, "did iron-hearted War itself ever do 
so hard and cruel a thing as this before?" 

" You have read in history, Laurence, of whole 



i6o GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

regions wantonly laid waste," said Grandfather. " In 
the removal of the Acadians, the troops were guilty of 
no cruelty or outrage, except what was inseparable 
from the measure." 

Little Alice, whose e}e3 had all along been brim- 
ming full of tears, now burst forth a-sobbing ; for 
Grandfather had touched lior sympathies more than 
he intended. 

" To think of a whole people homeless in the 
world ! " said Clara, with moistened eyes. " There 
never was anything so sad ! " 

"It was their own fault ! " cried Charley, energeti- 
cally. " Why did not they fight for the country 
where they were born. Then, if the worst had hap- 
pened to them, they could only have been killed and 
buried there. They would not have been exiles then." 

" Certainly their lot was as hard as death," said 
Grandfather. " All that could be done for them in 
the English provinces was, to send them to the alms- 
houses, or bind them out to taskmasters. And this 
was the fate of persons who had possessed a comfort- 
able property in their native country. Some of them 
found means to embark for France ; but though it 
was the land of their forefathers, it must have been 
a foreign land to them. Those who remained behind 
always cherished a belief that the king of France 
would never make peace with England till his poor 
Acadians were restored to their country and their 
homes." 

"And did he?" inquired Clara. 

"Alas, my dear Clara," said Grandfather, "it is 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. i6i 

improbable that the slightest whisper of the woes of 
Acadia ever reached the ears of Louis the Fifteenth. 
The exiles grew old in the British provinces, and 
never saw Acadia again. Their descendants remain 
among us to this day. They have forgotten the lan- 
guage of their ancestors, and probably retain no tra- 
dition of their misfortunes. But, methinks, if I were 
an American poet, I v/ould choose Acadia for the 
subject of my song." * 

And now, . having thrown a gentle gloom around 
the Thanksgiving fireside by a story that made the 
children feel the blessing of a secure and peaceful 
hearth, Grandfather put off the other events of the Old 
French War till the next evening. 



CHAPTER IX. 

Accordingly in the twilight of the succeeding eve, 
when the red beams of the fire were dancing upon the 
wall, the children besought Grandfather to tell them 
what had next happened to the old chair. 

" Our chair," said Grandfather, " stood all this 
time in the Province House. But Governor Shirley 
had seldom an opportunity to repose within its arms. 
He was leading his troops through the forest, or sail- 
ing in a flat-boat on lyake Ontario, or sleeping in his 
tent, while the awful cataract of Niagara sent its 
roar through his dreams. At one period, in the 

* The story has since this writing been told by Henry W. 
I/ongfellow in the well-known poem of " Evangeline." 



1 62 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

early part of the war, Shirley had the chief command 
of all the king's forces in America." 

" Did his young wife go with him to the war?" 
asked Clara. 

" I rather imagine," replied Grandfather, " that she 
remained in Boston. This lady, I suppose, had our 
chair all to herself, and used to sit in it during those 
brief intervals when a young Frenchwomen can be 
quiet enough to sit in a chair. The people of Massa- 
chusetts were never fond of Governor Shirley's young 
French wife. They had a suspicion that she betrayed 
the military plans of the English to the generals of 
the French armies." 

" And was it true ? " inquired Clara. 

"Probably not," said Grandfather. "But the 
mere suspicion did Shirley a great deal of harm. 
Partly, perhaps, for this reason, but much more on 
account of his inefficiency as a general, he was de- 
prived of his command in 1756, and recalled to Eng- 
land. He never afterwards made any figure in public 
life." 

As Grandfather's chair had no locomotive proper- 
ties, and did not even run on castors, it cannot be sup- 
posed to have marched in person to the Old French 
War. But Grandfather delayed its momentous history 
while he touched briefly upon some of the bloody 
battles, sieges, and onslaughts, the tidings of which 
kept continually coming to the ears of the old inhabi- 
tants of Boston. The woods of the north were popu- 
lous with fighting men. All the Indian tribes uplifted 
their tomahawks, and took part either with the French 



GRA NDFA THER 'S CHA IR. 



163 



or English. The rattle of musketry and roar of cannon 
disturbed the ancient quiet of the forest, and actually 




GENERAI, MONTCAI^M. 

drove the bears and other wild beasts to the more cul- 
tivated portion of the country in the vicinity of the 



1 64 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

sea-ports. The children felt as if they were trans- 
ported back to those forgotten times, and that the 
couriers from the army, with the news of a battle lost 
or won, might even now be heard galloping through 
the streets. Grandfather told them about the battle of 
Lake George in 1755, when the gallant Colonel Wil- 
liams, a Massachusetts officer, was slain, with many of 
his countrymen. But General Johnson and General 
Lyman, with their army, drove back the enemy and 
mortally wounded the French leader, who was called 
the Baron Dieskau. A gold watch, pilfered from the 
poor baron, is still in existence, and still marks each 
moment of time without complaining of weariness, 
although its hands have been in motion ever since the 
hour of battle. 

In the first years of the war there were many dis- 
asters on the English side. Among these was the loss 
of Fort Oswego in 1756, and of Fort William Henry 
in the following year. But the greatest misfortune 
that befell the English during the whole war was the 
repulse of General Abercrombie, with his army, from 
the ramparts of Ticonderoga in 1758. He attempted 
to storm the walls ; but a terrible conflict ensued, in 
which more than two thousand Englishmen and New 
Englanders were killed or wounded. The slain sol- 
diers now lie buried around that ancient fortress. 
When the plough passes over the soil, it turns up here 
and there a mouldering bone. 

Up to this period, none of the English generals had 
shown any military talent. Shirley, the Earl of Lou- 
don, and General Abercrombie had each held the chief 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



165 



command at different times ; but not one of them had 
won a single important triumph for the British arms. 
This ill success was not owing to the want of means ; 




GEN KRAI. WOI^FE. 



for, in 1758, General Abercrombie had fifty thousand 
soldiers under his command. But the French general, 
the famous Marquis de Montcalm, possessed a great 



1 66 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

genius for war, and had something within him that 
taught him how battles were to be won. 

At length, in 1759, Sir Jeffrey Amherst was ap- 
pointed commander-in-chief of all the British forces in 
America. He was a man of ability and a skillful soldier. 
A plan was now formed for accomplishing that object 
which had so long been the darling wish of the New 
Englanders, and which their fathers had so many 
times attempted. This was the conquest of Canada. 

Three separate armies were to enter Canada from 
different quarters. One of the three, commanded by 
General Prideaux, was to embark on Lake Ontario 
and proceed to Montreal. The second, at the head of 
which was Sir Jeffrey Amherst himself, was destined 
to reach the river St. Ivawrence, by the way of Lake 
Champlain, and then go down the river to meet the 
third army. This last, led by General Wolfe, was to 
enter the St. lyawrence from the sea and ascend the 
river to Quebec. It is to Wolfe and his army that 
England owes one of the most splendid triumphs ever 
written in her history. 

Grandfather described the siege of Quebec, and 
told how Wolfe led his soldiers up a rugged and lofty 
precipice, that rose from the shore of the river to the 
plain on which the city stood. This bold adventure 
was achieved in the darkness of night. At daybreak 
tidings were carried to the Marquis de Montcalm that 
the English army was waiting to give him battle on 
the plains of Abraham. This brave French general 
ordered his drums to strike up, and immediately 
marched to encounter Wolfe. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



167 



He marched to his own death. The battle was the 
most fierce and terrible that had ever been fought in 




Gi^ORGiH) III., KING OF ENGI^AND. 



1 68 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

America. General Wolfe was at the head of his sol- 
diers, and, while encouraging them onward, received 
a mortal wound. He reclined against a stone in the 
agonies of death ; but it seemed as if his spirit could 
not pass away while the fight yet raged so doubtfully. 
Suddenly a shout came pealing across the battle-field. 
"They flee! they flee!" — and, for a moment, Wolfe 
lifted his languid head. "Who flee?" he inquired. 
"The French," replied an officer. "Then I die satis- 
fied!" said Wolfe, and expired in the arms of victory. 

"If ever a warrior's death were glorious, Wolfe's 
was so!" said Grandfather; and his eye kindled, 
though he was a man of peaceful thoughts and gentle 
spirit. "His life-blood streamed to baptize the soil 
which he had added to the dominion of Britain. His 
dying breath was mingled with his army's shout of 
victory." 

"Oh, it was a good death to die!" cried Charley, 
with glistening eyes. "Was it not a good death, Lau- 
rence?" 

Laurence made no reply ; for his heart burned 
within him, as the picture of Wolfe', dying on the 
blood-stained field of victory, arose to his imagina- 
tion ; and yet he had a deep inward consciousness 
that, after all, there w^as a truer glory than could thus 
be won. 

"There were other battles in Canada after Wolfe's 
victory," resumed Grandfather ; "but we may consider 
the Old French War as having terminated with this 
great event. The treaty of peace, however, was not 
signed until 1763. The terms of the treaty were very 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 169 

disadvantageous to the French ; for all Canada, and all 
Acadia, and the Island of Cape Breton, — in short, all 
the territories that France and England had been fight- 
ing about for nearly a hundred years, — were surren- 
dered to the English." 

''So now, at last," said Laurence, "New England 
had gained her wish. Canada was taken!" 

"And now there was nobody to fight with but the 
Indians," said Charley. 

Grandfather mentioned two other important events. 
The first was the great fire of Boston in 1760, when 
the glare from nearly three hundred buildings, all in 
flames at once, shone through the windows of the 
Province House, and threw a fierce lustre upon the 
gilded foilage and lion head's of our old chair. The 
second event was the proclamation, in the same year, of 
George the Third as King of Great Britain. The blast 
of the trumpet sounded from the balcony of the Town 
House, and awoke the echoes far and wide, as if to chal- 
lenge all mankind to dispute King George's title. 

Seven times, as the successive monarch of Britain 
ascended the throne, the trumpet peal of proclamation 
had been heard by those who sat in our venerable 
chair. But when the next king put on his father's 
crown, no trumpet peal proclaimed it to New England! 



CHAPTER X. 

Now that Grandfather had fought through the old 
French War, in which our chair made no very distin- 



I/O GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

guished figure, lie thought it high time to tell the chil- 
dren some of the more private history of that praise- 
worthy old piece of furniture. 

"In 1757," said Grandfather, "after Shirley had 
been summoned to England, Thomas Pownall was ap- 
pointed Governor of Massachusetts. He w^s a gay and 
fashionable English gentlemen, who had 'spent much 
of his life in I^ondon, but had a considerable acquaint- 
ance with America. The new governor appears to 
have taken no active part in the war that was going 
on; although at one period, he talked of marching 
against the enemy at the head of his company of 
cadets. But, on the whole, he probably concluded that 
it was more befitting a governor to remain quietly in 
our chair, reading the newspapers and official docu- 
ments." 

" Did the people like Pownall ?" asked Charley. 

" They found no fault with him," replied Grand- 
father. " It was no time to quarrel with the governor 
when the utmost harmony was required in order to 
defend the country against the French. But Pownall 
did not remain long in Massachusetts. In 1759 ^^ was 
sent to be governor of South Carolina. In thus ex- 
changing one governor for another, I suppose he felt 
no regret, except at the necessity of leaving Grand- 
father's chair behind him." 

" He might have taken it to South Carolina," ob- 
served Clara. 

" It appears to me," said Laurence, giving the rein 
to his fancy, " that the fate of this ancient chair was, 
somehow or other, mysteriously connected with the 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 171 

fortunes of old Massachusetts. If Governor Pownall 
had put it aboard the vessel in which he sailed for 
South Carolina, she would probably have lain wind- 
bound in Boston Harbor. It was ordained that the 
chair should not be taken away. Don't you think so, 
Grandfather?" 

'' It was kept here for Grandfather and me to sit in 
together," said little Alice, " and for Grandfsither to 
tell stories about." 

" And Grandfather is very glad of such a compan- 
ion and such a theme," said the old gentleman, with a 
smile. " Well, Laurence, if our oaken chair, like the 
wooden Palladium of Troy, was connected with the 
country's fate, yet there appears to have been no su- 
pernatural obstacle to its removal from the Province 
House. In 1760 Sir Francis Bernard, who had been 
governor of New Jersey, w?.s appointed to the same 
office in Massachusetts. He looked at the old chair, 
and thought it quite too shabby to keep company with 
a new set of mahogany chairs and an aristocratic sofa 
which had just arrived from London. He therefore 
ordered it to be put away in the garret." 

The children were loud in their exclamations against 
this irreverent conduct of Sir Francis Bernard. But 
Grandfather defended him as well as he could. He 
observed that it was then' thirty years since the chair 
had \^^n beautified by Governor Belcher. Most of 
the gliding was worn off by the frequent scourings 
which it had imdergone beneath the hands of a black 
slave. The damask cushion, once so splendid, was 
now squeezed out of all shape, and absolutely in tat- 



172 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

ters, so many was the pondrous gentlemen who had 
deposited their weight upon it during these thirty 
years. 

Moreover, at a council held by the Earl of Ivoudon 
with the governors of New England in 1757, his lord- 
ship, in a moment of passion, had kicked over the 
chair with his military boot. By this unprovoked 
and unjustifiable act, our venerable friend had suffered 
a fracture of one of its rungs. 

" But," said Grandfather, " our chair, after all, was 
not destined to spend the remainder of its days in the 
inglorious obscurity of a garret. Thomas Hutchinson, 
lieutenant-governor of the province, was told of Sir 
Francis Bernard's design. This gentleman was more 
familiar with the history of New England than any 
other man alive. He knew all the adventures and 
vicissitudes through which the old chair had passed, 
and could have told as accurately as your own Grand- 
father who were the personages that had occupied it. 
Often, while visiting at the Province House, he had 
eyed the chair with admiration, and felt a longing 
desire to become the possessor of it. He now waited 
upon Sir Francis Bernard, and easily obtained leave to 
carry it home." 

^'And I hope," said Clara, "he had it varnished 
and gilded anew." 

" No," answered Grandfather. " What Mr. Hutch- 
inson desired was, to restore the chair as much as pos- 
sible to its original aspect, such as it had appeared 
when it was first made out of the Earl of Lincoln's 
oak-tree. For this purpose he ordered it to be well 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 173 

scoured with soap and sand and polished with wax, 
and then provided it with a substantial leather cush- 
ion. When all was completed to his mind he sat 
down in the old chair, and began to write his History 
of Massachusetts." 

"Oh, that was a bright thought in Mr. Hutchin- 
son ! " exclaimed Laurence. " And no doubt the dim 
figures of the former possessors of the chair flitted 
around him as he wrote, and inspired him with a 
knowledge of all that they had done and suffered while 
on earth." 

"Why, my dear Laurence," replied Grandfather, 
smiling, " if Mr. Hutchinson was favored with any 
such extraordinary inspiration, he made but a poor 
use of it in his history ; for a duller piece of composi- 
tion never came from any man's pen. However, he 
was accurate, at least, though far from possessing the 
brilliancy or philosophy of Mr. Bancroft." 

" But if Hutchinson knew the history of the chair," 
rejoined Laurence, " his heart must have been stirred 
by it." 

" It must, indeed," said Grandfather. " It would 
be entertaining and instructive, at the present day, to 
imagine what were Mr. Hutchinson's thoughts as he 
looked back upon the long vista of events with which 
this chair was so remarkably connected." 

And Grandfather allowed his fancy to shape out an 
image of Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson, sitting in 
an evening reverie by his fire-side, and meditating on 
the changes that had slowly passed around the chair. 

A devoted monarchist, Hutchinson would heave no 



174 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

sigli for the subversion of the original republican gov- 
ernment, the purest that the world had seen, with 
which the colony began its existence. While rever- 
encing the grim and stern old Puritans as the founders 
of his native land, he would not wish to recall them 
from their graves, nor to awaken again that king- 
resisting spirit which he imagined to be laid asleep 
with them forever. Winthrop, Dudley, Bellingham, 
Endicott, Leverett, and Brads treet ! all these had had 
their day. Ages might come and go, but never again 
would the people's suffrages place a republican gover- 
nor in their ancient Chair of State. 

Coming down to the epoch of the second charter, 
Hutchinson thought of the ship-carpenter Phips, 
springing from the lowest of the people and attaining 
to the loftiest station in the land. But he smiled to 
perceive that this governor's example would awaken 
no turbulent ambition in the lower orders ; for it was 
a king's gracious boon alone that made the ship-car- 
penter a ruler. Hutchinson rejoiced to mark the 
gradual growth of an aristocratic class, to whom the 
common people, as in duty bound, were learning 
humbly to resign the honors, emoluments, and author- 
ity of state. He saw — or else deceived himself — that, 
throughout this epoch, the people's disposition to self- 
government had been growing weaker through long- 
disuse, and now existed only as a faint traditionary 
feeling. 

The lieutenant-governor's reverie had now come 
down to the period at which he himself was sitting 
in the historic chair. He endeavored to throw his 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 175 

glance forward over the coming years. There, prob- 
ably, he saw visions of hereditary rank for himself 
and other aristocratic colonists. He saw the fertile 
fields of New England proportioned out among a few 
great landholders, and descending by entail from gen- 
eration to generation. He saw the people a race of 
tenantry, dependent on their lords. He saw stars, 
garters, coronets, and castles. 

"But," added Grandfather, turning to Laurence, 
"the lieutenant-governor's castles were built nowhere 
but among the red embers of the fire before which 
he was sitting. And, just as he had constructed a 
baronial residence for himself and his posterity, the 
fire rolled down upon the hearth and crumbled it to 
ashes!" 

Grandfather now looked at his watch, which hung 
within a beautiful little ebony temple, supported by 
four Ionic columns. He then laid his hand on the 
golden locks of little Alice, whose head had sunk 
down upon the arm of our illustrious chair. 

"To bed, to bed, dear child!" said he. "Grand- 
father has put you to sleep already by his stories 
about these famous 01.D peoplk." 



LIBERTY TREE. 

PREFACE. 

Has the youthful reader grown weary of Grand- 
father's stories about his chair? Will he not come 
this once more to our fire-side and be received as an 
own grandchild, and as brother, sister or cousin to 
Laurence, Clara, Charley, and little Alice? Come, 
do not be bashful, nor afraid. You will find Grand- 
father a kindly old man, with a cheerful spirit, and a 
heart that has grown mellow, instead of becoming 
dry and wilted with age. 

He will tell you how King George, trusting in the 
might of his armies and navies, sought to establish a 
tyranny over our fathers. Then you shall hear about 
Liberty Tree, and what crowds used to assemble with- 
in the circumference of its shadow. Grandfather must 
speak also about riots and disorders, and how an angry 
multitude broke into the mansion of the lieutenant- 
governor. Next, he will show the proud array of 
British soldiers, in their uniforms of scarlet and gold, 
landing at Long Wharf, and marching to take posses- 
sion of the Common and Faneuil Hall and the Old 
State House. Then }'ou must listen to the dismal tale 
of the Boston Massacre. Next comes the marvellous 
story of the tea ships and of that band of Indian figures 
who made their appearance in the dusk of evening 
and vanished before the dawn of day. Now come 
more and more regiments of soldiers, Their tents 

12 



178 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

whiten the Common like untimely snow. Their war- 
horses prance and neigh within the walls of the Old 
South Church. Hark! that faint echo comes from 
Ivcxington, where the British soldiers have fired a 
volley that begins the war of the Revolution. The 
people are up in arms. Gage, Howe, Burgoyne, Lord 
Percy, and many another haughty Englishman are 
beleagured within the peninsula of Boston. The 
Americans build batteries on every hill ; and look ! a 
warlike figure, on a white horse, rides majestically 
from height to height and directs the process of the 
siege. Can it be Washington? 

Then Grandfather will call up the shadow of a de- 
voted loyalist, and strive to paint him to your eyes 
and heart as he takes his farewell walk through Bos- 
ton. We will trace his melancholy steps from Faneuil 
Hall to Liberty Tree. That famous tree ! The axes 
of the British soldiers have hewn it down, but not be- 
fore its wind-strewn leaves had scattered the spirit of 
freedom far and wide — not before its roots had sprouted 
even in the distant soil of Georgia. 

Amid all these wonderful matters we shall not lose 
sight of Grandfather's Chair. On its sturdy oaken 
legs it trudges diligently from one scene to another, 
and seems always to thrust itself in the way with the 
most benign complacency, whenever an historical 
personage happens to be looking around for a seat. 
The excellent old Chair ! Let the reader make much 
of it while he may; for with this little volume 
Grandfather concludes its history, and withdraws it 
from the public eye. 




RATTlvESNAKE FI^AG, USED AT THE BEGINNING OF 
THE REVOIvUTION. 

LIBERTY TREE, 

WITH THE LAST WORDS OF GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



CHAPTER I. 

ON the evening of New Year's Day Grandfather 
was walking to and fro across the carpet, listen- 
ing to the rain which beat hard against the 
curtained windows. The riotous blast shook the case- 
ment as if a strong man were striving to force his 
entrance into the comfortable room. With every puff of 
the wind the fire leaped upward from the hearth, laugh- 
ing and rejoicing at the shrieks of the wintry storm. 



i8o GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

Meanwhile Grandfather's chair stood in its custom- 
ary place by the fireside. The bright blaze gleamed 
upon the fantastic figures of its oaken back, and 
shone through the open-work, so that a complete 
pattern was thrown upon the opposite side of the 
room. Sometimes, for a moment or two, the shadow 
remained immovable, as if it were painted on the 
wall. Then, all at once, it began to quiver, and leap, 
and dance with a frisky motion. Anon, seeming to 
remember that these antics were unworthy of such a 
dignified and venerable chair, it suddenly stood still. 
But soon it began to dance anew. 

" Only see how Grandfather's chair is dancing !" 
cried little Alice. 

And she ran to the wall and tried to catch hold of 
the flickering shadow ; for, to children of five years 
old, a shadow seems almost as real as a substance. 

" I wish," said Clara, " Grandfather would sit down 
in the chair and finish its history." 

" If the children had been looking at Grandfather, 
they would have noticed that he paused in his walk 
across the room when Clara made this remark. The 
kind old gentleman was ready and willing to resume 
his stories of departed times. But he had resolved 
to wait till his auditors should request him to proceed, 
in order that they might find the instructive history 
of the chair a pleasure, and not a task. 

" Grandfather," said Charley, " I am tired to death 
of this dismal rain and of hearing the wind roar in 
the chimney. I have had no good time all day. 
It would be better to hear stories about the chair 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. i8r 

than to sit doing nothing and thinking of nothing." 

To say the truth, our friend Charley was very 
much out of humor with the storm, because it had 
kept him all day within doors, and hindered him 
from making a trial of a splendid sled, which Grand- 
father had given him for a New Year's gift. As all 
sleds, nowadays, must have a name the one in question 
had been honored with the title of Grandfather's 
Chair, which was painted in golden letters on each of 
the sides. Charley greatly admired the construction 
of the new vehicle, and felt certain that it would out- 
strip any other sled that ever dashed adown the long 
slopes of the Common. 

As for Laurence, he happened to be thinking, just 
at this moment, about the history of the chair. Kind 
old Grandfather had made him a present of a volume 
of engraved portraits, representing the features of 
eminent and famous people of all countries. Among 
them Laurence found several who had formerly occu- 
pied our chair or been connected with its adventures. 
While Grandfather walked to and fro across the room, 
the imaginative boy was gazing at the historic chair. 
He endeavored to summon up the portraits which he 
had seen in his volume, and to place them, like living 
figures, in the empty seat. 

" The old chair has begun another year of its exist- 
ence, to-day," said Laurence. " We must make haste, 
or it will ha^^e a nev\^ history to be told before we 
finish the old one." 

"Yes, my children," replied Grandfather with a 
smile and a sigh, " another year has been added to 



i82 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

those of the two hundred and ten which have passed 
since the Lady Arbella brought this chair over from 
England. It is three times as old as your Grand- 
father ; but a year makes no impression on its oaken 
frame, while it bends the old man nearer and nearer to 
the earth; so let me go on with my stories while I may." 

Accordingly Grandfather came to the fireside and 
seated himself in the venerable chair. The lion's 
head looked down with a grimly good-natured aspect 
as the children clustered around the old gentleman's 
knees. It almost seemed as if a real lion were peep- 
ing over the back of the chair, and smiling at the 
group of auditors with a sort of lion-like complaisance. 
Little Alice, whose fancy often inspired her with 
singular ideas, exclaimed that the lion's head was 
nodding at her, and that it looked as if it were going 
to open its wide jaws and tell a story. 

But as the lion's head appeared to be in no haste 
to speak, and as there was no record or tradition of 
its having spoken during the whole existence of the 
chair, Grandfather did not consider it worth while to 
wait. 



CHAPTER II. 

" Charley, my boy," said Grandfather, " do you re- 
member who was the last occupant of the chair? " 

" It was Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson," an- 
swered Charley. " Sir Francis Bernard, the new 
governor, had given him the chair, instead of putting 
it away in the garret of the Province House. And 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 183 

when we took leave of Hutchinson he was sitting by 
his fireside, and thinking of the past adventures of the 
chair and of what was to come." 

"Very well," said Grandfather; "and you recol- 
lect that this was in 1763, or thereabouts, at the close 
of the Old French War. Now, that you may fully 
comprehend the remaining adventures of the chair, I 
must make some brief remarks on the situation and 
character of the New England colonies at this period." 

So Grandfather spoke of the earnest loyalty of our 
fathers during the Old French War, and after the 
conquest of Canada had brought that war to a trium- 
phant close. 

The people loved and reverenced the King of Eng- 
land even more than if the ocean had not rolled its 
waves between him and them ; for, at the distance of 
three thousand miles, they could not discover his bad 
qualities and imperfections. Their love was increased 
by the dangers which they had encountered in order 
to heighten his glory and extend his dominion. 
Throughout the war the American colonists had 
fought side by side with the soldiers of Old England ; 
and nearly thirty thousand young men had laid down 
their lives for the honor of King George. And the 
survivors loved him the better because they had done 
and suffered so much for his sake. 

But there were some circumstances that caused 
America to feel more independent of England than 
at an earlier period. Canada and Acadia had now 
become British provinces ; and our fathers were no 
longer afraid of the bands of French and Indians who 



1 84 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

used to assault them in old times. For a century and 
a half this had been the great terror of New England. 
Now the old French soldier was driven from the north 
forever. And, even had it been otherwise, the Eng- 
lish colonies were growing so populous and powerful 
that they might have felt fully able to protect them- 
selves without any help from England. 

There were thoughtful and sagacious men, who 
began to doubt whether a great country like America 
would always be content to remain under the govern- 
ment of an island three thousand miles away. This 
was the more doubtful, because the English Parlia- 
ment had long ago made laws which were intended 
to be very beneficial to England at the expense of 
America. By these laws the colonists were forbidden 
to manufacture articles for their own use, or to carry 
on trade with any nation but the English. 

" Now," continued Grandfather, '* if King George 
the Third and his counsellors had considered these 
things wisely, they would have taken another course 
than they did. But when they saw how rich and 
populous the colonies had grown, their first thought 
was how they might make more profit out of them 
than heretofore. England was enormously in debt 
at the close of the Old French War ; and it was pre- 
tended that this debt had been contracted for the de- 
fence of the American colonies, and that, therefore, a 
part of it ought to be paid by them." 

"Why, this was nonsense," exclaimed Charley. 
'' Did not our fathers spend their lives, and their 
money too, to get Canada for King George?" 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 185 

"True, they did," said Grandfather; "and they 
told the English rulers so. But the king and his 
ministers would not listen to good advice. In 1765 
the British Parliament passed a Stamp Act." 

"What was that?" inquired Charley. 
I "The Stamp Act," replied Grandfather, "was a 
law by which all deeds, bonds, and other papers of 
the same kind were ordered to be marked with the 
king's stamp ; and without this mark they were de- 
clared illegal and void. Now, in order to get a blank 
sheet of paper with the king's stamp upon it, people 
were obliged to pay threepence more than the actual 
value of the paper. And this extra sum of three- 
pence was a tax, and was to be paid into the king's 
treasury." 

" I am sure threepence was not worth quarreling 
about !" remarked Clara. 

" It was not for threepence, nor for any amount of 
money, that America quarrelled with England," re- 
plied Grandfather ; "it was for a great principle. The 
colonists were determined not to be taxed except by 
their own representatives. They said that neither the 
king and Parliament, nor any other power on earth, 
had a right to take their money out of their pockets 
unless they freely gave it. And, rather than pay 
threepence when it was unjustly demanded, they re- 
solved to sacrifice all the wealth of the country, and 
their lives along with it. They therefore made a most 
stubborn resistence to the Stamp Act." 

"That was noble!" exclaimed Laurence. "I un- 
derstand how it was. If they had quietly paid the tax 



i86 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

of threepence, they would have ceased to be freemen, 
and would have become tributaries of England. And 
so they contended about a great question of right and 
wrong, and put everything at stake for it." 

"You are right, Ivaurence," said Grandfather, "and 
it was really amazing and terrible to see what a change 
came over the aspect of the people the moment the 
English Parliament had passed this oppressive act. 
The former history of our chair, my children, has 
given you some idea of what a harsh, unyielding, stern 
set of men the old Puritans were. For a good many 
years back, however, it had seemed as if these charac- 
teristics were disappearing. But no sooner did Eng- 
land offer wrong to the colonies than the descendants 
of the early settlers proved that they had the same 
kind of temper as their forefathers. The moment 
before. New England appeared like a humble and 
loyal subject of the crown ; the next instant, she 
showed the grim, dark features of an old king-resisting 
Puritan." 

Grandfather spoke briefly of the public measures 
that were taken in opposition to ' the Stamp Act, As 
this law affected all the American colonies alike, it 
naturally led them to think of consulting together in 
order to procure its repeal. For this purpose the 
Legislature of Massachusetts proposed that delegates 
from every colony should meet in Congrees. Accord- 
ingly nine colonies, both northern and southern, sent 
delegates to the city of New York. 

"And did they consult about going to war with 
England?" asked Charley. 




WBERTY TREE, BOSTON COMMON. 



i88 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

"No, Charley," answered Grandfadier ; "a great 
deal of talking was yet to be done before England 
and America could come to blows. The Congress 
stated the rights and grievances of the colonies. They 
sent an humble petition to the king, and a memorial 
to the Parliament, beseeching that the Stamp Act 
might be repealed. This was all that the delegates 
had it in their power to do. 

"They might as well have stayed at home, then." 
said Charley. 

"By no means," replied Grandfather. " It was a 
most important and memorable event, — this first com- 
ing together of the American people by their repre- 
sentatives from the north and south. If England had 
been wise, she would have trembled at the first word 
that was spoken in such an assembly !" 

These remonstrances and petitions, as Grandfather 
observed, were the work of grave, thoughtful, and 
prudent men. Meantime the young and hot-headed 
people went to work in their own way. It is prob- 
able that the petitions of Congress would have had 
little or no effect on the British statesmen if the violent 
deeds of the American people had not shown how 
much excited the people were. Liberty Tree was 
soon heard of in England. 

" What was Liberty Tree ? " inquired Clara. 

" It was an old elm tree," answered Grandfather, 
" which stood near the corner of Essex street opposite 
the Boylston Market. Under the spreading branches 
of this great tree the people used to assemble when- 
ever they wished to express their feelings and opinions. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 189 

Thus, after awhile, it seemed as if the liberty of the 
country was connected with Liberty Tree." 

" It was glorious fruit for a tree to bear," remarked 
lyaurence. 

" It bore strange fruit, sometimes," said Grand- 
father. "One morning in August, 1765, two figures 
were found hanging on the sturdy branches of Lib- 
erty Tree." They were dressed in square-skirted 
coats and small-clothes ; and, as their wigs hung down 
over their faces, they looked like real men. One was 
intended to represent the Earl of Bute, who was sup- 
posed to have advised the king to tax America. The 
other was meant for the effigy of Andrew Oliver, a 
gentleman belonging to one of the most lespectable 
families in Massachusetts. 

" What harm had he done?" inquired Charley. 

" The king had appointed him to be distributor of 
the stamps," answered Grandfather. " Mr. Oliver 
would have made a great deal of money by this busi- 
ness. But the people frightened him so much by 
hanging him in effigy, and afterw^ards by breaking 
into his house, that he promised to have nothing to do 
with the stamps. And all the king's friends through- 
out America were compelled to make the same prom- 
ise. 

CHAPTER III. 

"Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson," continued 
Grandfather, "now began to be unquiet in our old 
chair. He had formerly been much respected and 



I90 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

beloved by the people, and had often proved himself 
a friend to their interests. But the time was come 
when he could not be a friend to the people without 
ceasing to be a friend to the king. It was pretty 
generally understood that Hutchinson would act ac- 
cording to the king's wishes, right or wrong, like 
most of the other gentlemen who held offices under 
the crown. Besides, as he was brother-in-law of 
Andrew Oliver, the people now felt a particular dis- 
like to him." 

'^ I should think," said lyaurence, " as Mr. Hutchin- 
son had written the history of our Puritan forefathers, 
he would have known what the temper of the people 
was, and so have taken care not to wrong them." 

"He trusted in the might of the King of England," 
replied Grandfather, " and thought himself safe under 
the shelter of the throne. If no dispute had arisen 
between the king and the people, Hutchinson would 
have had the character of a wise, good, and patriotic 
magistrate. But, from the time that he took part 
against the rights of his coimtry, the people's love and 
respect were turned to scorn and hatred, and he never 
had another hour of peace." 

In order to show what a fierce and dangerous 
spirit was now aroused among the inhabitants, Grand- 
father related a passage from history, which we shall 
call 

THE HUTCHINSON MOB. 

On the evening of the twenty-sixth of August, 
1765, a bonfire was kindled in King street. It 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 191 

flamed high upward, and threw a ruddy light over the 
front of the town house, on which was displayed a 
carved representation of the royal arms. The gilded 
vane of the cupola glittered in the blaze. The kind- 
ling of this bonfire was the well known signal for the 
populace of Boston to assemble in the street. 

Before the tar-barrels, of which the bonfire was 
made, were half burned out, a great crowd had come 
together. They were chiefly laborers and seafaring 
men, together with many young apprentices, and all 
those idle people about town who are ready for any 
kind of mischief Doubtless some school-boys were 
among them. 

While these rough figures stood round the blazing 
bonfire, you might hear them speaking bitter words 
against the high officers of the province. Governor 
Bernard, Hutchinson, Oliver, Storey, Hallowell, and 
other men whom King George delighted to honor, 
were reviled as traitors to the country. Now and 
then, perhaps, an officer of the crown passed along 
the street, wearing the gold-laced hat, white wig, and 
embroidered waistcoat which were the fashion of the 
day. But when the people beheld him they set up a 
wild and angry howl ; and their faces had an evil as- 
pect, which was made more terrible by the flickering 
blaze of the bonfire. 

"I should like to throw the traitor right into that 
blaze!" perhaps one fierce rioter would say. 

"Yes; and all his brethren too!" another might re- 
ply; "and the governor and old Tommy Hutchinson 
into the hottest of it ! " 



192 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

"And the Earl of Bute along with them!" mut- 
tered a third; "and burn the whole pack of them 
under King George's nose! No matter if it singed 
him!" 

Some such expressions as these, either shouted 
aloud or muttered under the breath, were doubless 
heard in King street. The mob, meanwhile, were 
growing fiercer and fiercer, and seemed ready even to 
set the town on fire for the sake of burning the king's 
friends out of house and home. And yet, angry as 
they were, they sometimes broke into a loud roar of 
laughter, as if mischief and destruction were their 
sport. 

But we must now leave the rioters for a time, and 
take a peep into the lieutenant governor's splendid 
mansion. It was a large brick house, decorated with 
Ionic pilasters, and stood in Garden Court street, near 
the North Square. 

While the angry mob in King street were shouting 
his name, lyieutenant-Governor Hutchinson sat quietly 
in Grandfather's chair, unsuspicious of the evil that 
was about to fall upon his head. His beloved family 
were in the room with him. He had thrown off his 
embroidered coat and powdered wig, and had on a 
loose flowing gown and purple velvet cap. He had 
likewise laid aside the cares of state and all the 
thoughts that had wearied and perplexed him through- 
out the day. 

Perhaps, in the enjoyment of his home, he had 
forgotten all about the Stamp Act, and scarcely re- 
membered that there was a king, across the ocean. 




1*3 



194 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

who had resolved to make tributaries of the New 
Englanders. Possibly, too, he had forgotten his own 
ambition, and would not have exchanged his situation, 
at that moment, to be governor, or even a lord. 

The wax candles were now lighted, and showed a 
handsome room, well provided with rich furniture. On 
the walls hung the pictures of Hutchinson's ancestors, 
who had been eminent men in their day, and were 
honorably remembered in the history of the country. 
Kvery object served to mark the residence of a rich, 
aristocratic gentleman, who held himself high above 
the common people, and could have nothing to fear 
from them. In a corner of the room, thrown care- 
lessly upon a chair, were the scarlet robes of the chief 
justice. This high office, as well as those of lieutenant 
governor, counsellor, and judge of probate, was filled 
by Hutchinson. 

wno or wnat could disturb the domestic quiet of 
such a great and powerful personage as now sat in 
Grandfather's chair. 

The lieutenant governor's favorite daughter sat by 
his side. She leaned on the arm of our great chair, 
and looked up affectionately into her father's face, re- 
joicing to perceive that a quiet smile was on his lips. 
But suddenly a shade came across her countenance. 
She seemed to listen attentively, as if to catch a dis- 
tant sound. 

"What is the matter, my child?" inquired Hutch- 
inson. 

" Father, do not you hear a tumult in the streets ? " | 
said she. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 195 

The lieutenant governor listened. But his ears 
were duller than those of his daughter ; he could hear 
nothing more terrible than the sound of a summer 
breeze, sighing among the tops of the elm-trees. 

" No, foolish child ! " he replied, playfully patting 
her cheek. " There is no tumult. Our Boston mobs 
are satisfied with what mischief they have already 
done. The king's friends need not tremble." 

So Hutchinson resumed his pleasant and peaceful 
meditation, and again forgot that there were any 
troubles in the" world. But his family were alarmed, 
and could not help straining their ears to catch the 
slightest sound. More and more distinctly they heard 
shouts, and then the trampling of many feet. While 
they were listening, one of the neighbors rushed 
breathless into the room. 

"A mob ! — a terrible mob ! " cried he. " They have 
broken into Mr. Storey's house, and into Mr. Hallo- 
well's, and have made themselves drunk with the 
liquors in his cellar ; and now they are coming hither, 
as wild as so many tigers. Flee, lieutenant governor, 
for your life ! " 

" Father, dear father, make haste ! " shrieked his 
children. 

But Hutchinson would not hearken to them. He 
was an old lawyer ; and he could not realize that the 
people would do anything so utterly lawless as to as- 
sault him in his peaceful home. He was one of King 
George's chief officers ; and it would be an insult and 
outrage upon the king himself if the lieutenant gover- 
nor should suffer any wrong. 



196 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

" Have no fears on my account," said he ; "I am 
perfectly safe. The king's name snail be my protec- 
tion." 

Yet he bade his family retire into one of the neigh- 
boring houses. His daughter would have remained, 
but he forced her awa}-. 

The huzzas and riotous uproar of the mob we now 
heard, close at hand. The sound was terrible, and 
struck Hutchinson with the same sort of dread as if 
an enraged wild beast had broken loose and were roar- 
ing for its prey. He crept softly to the window. There 
he beheld an immense concourse of people, filling all 
the street and rolling onward to his house. It was 
like a tempestuous flood, that had swelled beyond its 
bounds and would sweep everything before it. Hutch- 
inson trembled ; he felt, at that moment, that the wrath 
of the people wrm n thousand -fold more terrible than 
the wrath of a king. 

That was a moment when a loyalist and an aristo- 
crat like Hutchinson might have learned how power- 
less are kings, nobles, and great men, when the low 
and humble range themselves against them. King 
George could do nothing for his servant now. Had 
King George been there he could have done nothing 
for himself If Hutchinson had understood this les- 
son, and remembered it, he need not, in after years, 
have been an exile from his native country, nor finally 
have laid his bones in a distant land. 

There was now a rush against the doors of the 
house. The people sent up a discordant cry. At this 
instant the lieutenant governor's daughter, whom he 



198 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

had supposed to be in a place of safety, ran into the 
room and threw her arms around him. She had re- 
turned by a private entrance. 

" Father, are you mad?" cried she, " Will the king's 
name protect you now ? Come with me, or they will 
have your life." 

"True," muttered Hutchinson to himself; "what 
care these roarers for the name of king ? I must flee, 
or they will trample me down on the door of my own 
dwelling !" 

Hurrying away, he and his daughter made their 
escape by the private passage at the moment when the 
•rioters broke into the house. The foremost of them 
rushed up th@ stair-case, and entered the room which 
Hutchinson had just quitted. There they beheld our 
good old chair facing them with quiet dignity, while 
the lion's head seemed to move its jaws in the unsteady 
light of their torches. Perhaps the stately aspect of 
our venerable friend, which had stood firm through a 
century and a half of trouble, arrested them for an 
instant. But they were thrust forward by those 
behind, and the chair lay overthrown. 

Then began the work of destruction. The carved 
and polished mahogany tables were shattered with 
heavy clubs and hewn to splinters with axes. The 
marble hearths and mantel pieces were broken. The 
volumes of Hutchinson's library, so precious to a 
studious man, were torn out of their covers, and the 
leaves sent flying out of the windows. Manuscripts, 
containing secrets of our country's history, which are 
now lost forever, were scattered to the winds. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 199 

The old ancestral portraits, whose fixed counten- 
ances looked down on the wild scenes, were rent from 
the walls. The mob triumphed in their downfall and 
destruction, as if these pictures of Hutchinson's fore- 
fathers had committed the same offences as their 
I descendant. A tall looking-glass, which had hitherto 
presented a reflection of the enraged and drunken 
multitude, was now smashed into a thousand frag- 
ments. We gladly dismiss the scene from the mirror 
of our fancy. 

Before morning dawned the walls of the house were 
all that remained. The interior was a dismal scene 
of ruin. A shower pattered in at the broken windows ; 
and when Hutchinson and his family returned, they 
stood shivering in the same room where the last even- 
ing had seen them so peaceful and happy. 



"Grandfather," said Laurence, indignantly, "if the 
people acted in this manner, they were not worthy of 
even so much liberty as the king of England was 
willing to allow them." 

"It was a most unjustifiable act, like many other 
popular movements at that time," replied Grandfather. 
" But we must not decide against the justice of the 
people's cause merely because an excited mob was 
guilty of outrageous violence. Besides, all these things 
were done in the first fury of resentment. After- 
wards the people grew more calm, and were more 
influenced by the counsel of those wise and good men 
who conducted them safely and gloriously through 
the Revolution. 



200 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

Little Alice, with tears in her blue eyes, said thav 
she hoped the neighbors had not let Lieutenant-Gov- 
ernor Hutchinson and his family be homeless in the 
street, but had taken them into their houses and been 
kind to them. Cousin Clara, recollecting the perilous 
situation of our beloved chair, inquired what had be- 
come of it. 

" Nothing was heard of our chair for some time af- 
terwards," answered Grandfather. " One day in Sep- 
tember, the sauie Andrew Oliver, of whom I before 
told you, was summoned to appear at high noon under 
Liberty Tree. This was the strangest summons that 
had ever been heard of; for it was issued in the name 
of the whole people, who thus took upon themselves 
the authority of a sovereign power. Mr. Oliver dared 
not disobey. Accordingly, at the appointed hour he 
went, much against his will, to Liberty Tree." 

Here Charley interposed a remark that poor Mr. 
Oliver found but little liberty under Liberty Tree. 
Grandfather assented. 

" It was a stormy day," continued he. " The equi- 
noctial gale blew violently, and scattered the yellow 
leaves of Liberty Tree all along the street. Mr. Oliver's 
wig was dripping with water-drops ; and he probably 
looked haggard, disconsolate, and humbled to the 
earth. Beneath the tree, in Grandfather's chair, — our 
own venerable chair, — sat ]\Ir. Richard Dana, a justice 
of the peace. He administered an oath to Mr. Oliver 
that he would never have anything to do with dis- 
tributing the stamps. A vast concourse of people 
heard the oath, and shouted when it was taken." 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 201 

"There is something grand in this," said Laurence. 
" I like it, because the people seem to liave acted with 
though tfulness and dignity ; and this proud gentleman, 
one of his Majesty's high officers, was made to feel that 
King George could not protect him in doing wrong." 

" But it was a sad day for poor Mr. Oliver," 
observed Grandfather. " From his youth upward it 
had probably been the great principle of his life to be 
faithful and obedient to the king. And now, in his 
old age, it must have puzzled and distracted him to 
find the sovereign people setting up a claim to his 
faith and obedience." 

Grandfather closed the evening's conversation by 
saying that the discontent of America was so great, 
that, in 1766, the British Parliament was compelled 
to repeal the Stamp Act. The people made great 
rejoicings, but took care to keep Liberty Tree well 
pruned and free from caterpillars and canker worms. 
They foresaw that there might yet be occasion for 
them to assemble under its far projecting shadow. 



CHAPTER IV. 

The next evening, Clara, who remembered that our 
chair had been left standing in the rain under Liberty 
Tree, earnestly besought Grandfather to tell when and 
where it had next found shelter. Perhaps she was 
afraid that the venerable chair, by being exposed to 
the inclemency of a September gale, might get the 
rheumatism in its aged joints. 



202 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

''The chair," said Grandfather, "after the ceremony 
of Mr. Oliver's oath, appears to have been quite for- 
gotten by the multitude. Indeed, being much bruised 
and rather rickety, owing to the violent treatment it 
had suffered from the Hutchinson mob, most people 
would have thought that its days of usefulness were 
over. Nevertheless, it was conveyed away under 
cover of the night and committed to the care of a 
skilful joiner. He doctored our old friend so success- 
fully, that, in the course of a few days, it made its 
appearance in the public room of the British Coffee 
House, in King street." 

" But why did not Mr. Hutchinson get possession 
of it again?" inquired Charley. 

" I know not," answered Grandfather, " unless he 
considered it a dishonor and disgrace to the chair to 
have stood under Liberty Tree. At all events, he 
suffered it to remain at the British Coffee House, 
which was the principal hotel in Boston. It could 
not possibly have found a situation where it would be 
more in the midst of business and bustle, or would 
witness more important events, or be occupied by a 
greater variety of persons." 

Grandfather went on to tell the proceedings of the 
despotic king and ministry of England after the repeal 
of the Stamp Act. They could not bear to think that 
their right to tax America should be disputed by the 
people. In the year 1767, therefore, they caused Par- 
liament to pass an act for laying a duty on tea and 
some other articles that were in general use. Nobody 
could now buy a pound of tea without paying a tax 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



203 



to King George. This scheme was pretty craftily 
contrived ; for the women of America were very fond 
of tea, and did not like to give up the use of it. 

But the people were as much opposed to this new 
act of Parliament as they had been to the Stamp Act. 




FANEUIIv HAI,Iv, BOSTON. 

England, however, was determined that they should 
submit. In order to compel their obedience, two regi- 
ments, consisting of more than seven hundred British 
soldiers, were sent to Boston. They arrived in Sep- 
tember, 1768, and were landed on I^ong Wharf. 
Thence they marched to the Common with loaded 



204 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

muskets, fixed bayonets, and great pomp and parade. 
So now, at last, the free town of Boston was guarded 
and overawed by red-coats as it had been in the days 
of old Sir Edmund Andros. 

In the month of November more regiments arrived. 
There were now four thousand troops in Boston. The 
Common was whitened with their tents. Some of 
the soldiers were lodged in Faneuil Hall, which the 
inhabitants looked upon as a consecrated place, be- 
cause it had been the scene of a great many meetings 
in favor of liberty. One regiment was placed in the 
Town House, which we now call the Old State House. 
The lower floor of this edifice had hitherto been 
used by the merchants as an exchange. In the 
upper stories were chambers of the judges, the repre- 
sentatives, and the governor's council. The venerable 
counsellors could not assemble to consult about the 
welfare of the province without being challenged by 
sentinels and passing among the bayonets of the 
British soldiers. 

Sentinels, likewise, were posted at the lodgings of 
the officers in many parts of the town. When the in- 
habitants approachtd they were greeted by the sharp 
question — '^ Who goes there?" — while the rattle of the 
soldier's musket was heard as he presented it against 
their breasts. There was no quiet even on the Sab- 
bath day. The pious descendants of the Puritans were 
shocked by the uproar of military music ; the drum, the 
fife, and the bugle drowning the holy organ peal and 
voices of the singers. It would appear as if the British 
took every method to insult the feelings of the people. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 205 

"Grandfather," cried Charley, impatiently, "the 
people did not go to fighting half soon enough ! These 
British red-coats ought to have been driven back to 
their vessels the very moment they landed on Long 
wharf" 

" Many a hot-headed young man said the same as 
you do, Charley," answered Grandfather. "But the 
elder and wiser people saw that the time was not yet 
come. Meanwhile, let us take another peep at our 
old chair." . 

" Ah, it drooped its head, I know," said Charley, 
"when it saw how the province was disgraced. Its 
old Puritan friends never would have borne such do- 
ings." 

"The chair," proceeded Grandfather, "was now 
continually occupied by some of the high tories, as 
the king's friends were called, who frequented the 
British Coffee House. Officers of the custom house, 
too, which stood on the opposite side of King Street, 
often sat in the chair wagging their tongues against 
John Hancock." 

"Why against him?" asked Charley. 

" Because he was a great merchant and contended 
against paying duties to the king," said Grandfather. 

"Well, frequently, no doubt, the officers of the 
British regiments when not on duty, used to fling 
themselves into the arms of our venerable chair. 
Fancy one of them, a red nosed captain in his scarlet 
uniform, playing with the hilt of his sword, and mak- 
ing a circle of his brother officers merry with ridicu- 
lous jokes at the expense of the poor Yankees. And 



2o6 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

perhaps he would call for a bottle of wine, or a steam- 
ing bowl of punch, and drink confusion to all rebels." 

"Our grave old chair must have been scandalized 
at such scenes," observed Laurence ; " the chair that had 
been the Lady Arbella's, and which the Holy Apostle 
Kliot had consecrated." 

" It certainly was little less than sacrilege," replied 
Grandfather; "but the time was coming when even 
the churches, where hallowed pastors had long 
preached the word of God, were to be torn down or 
desecrated by the British troops. Some years passed, 
however, before such things were done." 

Grandfather told his auditors that, in 1769, Sir 
Francis Bernard went to England after having been 
governor of Massachusetts ten years. He was a gen- 
tleman of many good qualities, an excellent scholar, 
and a friend to learning. But he was naturally of an 
arbitrary disposition ; and he had been bred at the 
University of Oxford, where young men were taught 
that the divine right of kings was the only thing to be 
regarded in matters of government. Such ideas were 
ill adapted to please the people of Massachusetts. 
They rejoiced to get rid of Sir Francis Bernard, but 
liked his successor, Ivieutenant-Governor Hutchinson, 
no better than himself. 

About this period the people were much incensed at 
an act committed by a person who held an office in the 
custom house. Some lads, or young men were snow- 
balling his windows. He fired a musket at them, 
and killed a poor German boy, only eleven years old. 
This event made a great noise in town and country, 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



207 



and much increased the resentment that was already 
felt against the servants of the crown. 




JOHN HANCOCK, PRESIDENT OF THE CONTlNENTAIv CONGRESS. 

"Now, children," said Grandiather, "I wish to 
make you comprehend the position of the British 



2o8 GRAiXDFAJNER'S CHAIR. 

troops ill King street. This is the same which we 
now call State street. On the south side of the town 
house, or Old State House, was what military men call 
a court of guard, defended by two brass cannons, which 
pointed directly at one of the doors of the above edifice. 
A large party of soldiers were always stationed in the 
court of guard. The custom house stood at a little 
distance down King street, nearly where the Suffolk 
bank now stands, and a sentinel was continually 
pacing before its front." 

" I shall remember this to-morrow," said Charley ; 
"and I will go to State street, so as to see exactly 
where the British troops were stationed." 

"And before long," observed Grandfather, "I vshall 
have to relate an event which made King street sadly 
famous on both sides of the Atlantic. The history of 
our chair will soon bring us to this melancholy busi- 
ness." 

Here Grandfather described the state of things 
which arose from the ill will that existed between the 
inhabitants and the red-coats. The old and sober part 
of the townspeople were very angry at the government 
for sending soldiers to overawe them. But those gray- 
headed men were cautious, and kept their thoughts 
and feelings in their own breasts, without putting 
themselves in the way of the British bayonets. 

The younger people, however, could hardly be kept 
within such prudent limits. They reddened with 
wrath at the very sight of a soldier, and would have 
been willing to come to blows with them at any 
moment. For it was their opinion that every tap of a 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 209 

British drum within the peninsula of Boston was 
an insult to the brave old town. 

"It was sometimes the case," continued Grand- 
father, " that affrays happened between such wild 
young men as these and small parties of the soldiers. 
No weapons had hitherto been used except fists or 
cudgels. But when men have loaded muskets in their 
hands, it is easy to foretell that they will soon be 
turned against the bosoms of those who provoke their 
anger." 

" Grandfather," said little Alice, looking fearfully 
into his face, " your voice sounds as though you were 
going to tell us something awful !" 



CHAPTER V. 

Little Alice by her last remark, proved herself a 
good judge of what was expressed by the tones of 
Grandfather's voice. He had given the above descrip- 
tion of the enmity between the town's people and the 
soldiers in order to prepare the minds of his auditors 
for a very terrible event. It was one that did more to 
heighten the quarrel between England and America 
than anything that had yet occurred. 

Without further preface. Grandfather began the 
story of 

THE BOSTON MASSACRE. 

It was now the 3d of March, 1770. The sunset 
music of the British regiments was heard as usual 
throughout the town. The shrill fife and rattling drum 
14 



2IO GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

awoke the echoes in King street, while the last ray of 
sunshine was lingering on the cupola of the town 
house. And now all the sentinels were posted. One 
of them marched up and down before the Custom 
House, treading a short path through the snow, and 
longing for the time when he would be dismissed to 
the warm fireside of the guard room. Meanwhile 
Captain Preston was, perhaps, sitting in our great 
chair before the hearth of the British Coffee House. 
In the course of the evening there were two or three 
slight commotions, which seemed to indicate that 
trouble was at hand. Small parties of young men 
stood at the corners of the streets or walked along the 
narrow pavements. Squads of soldiers who were dis- 
missed from duty passed by them, shoulder to shoul- 
der, with the regular step which they had learned at 
the drill. Whenever these encounters took place, it 
appeared to be the object of the young men to treat 
the soldiers with as much incivility as possible. 

" Turn out, you lobster -backs !" one would say. 

"Crowd them off the sidewalks!'' another would 
cry. "A red-coat has no right in Boston streets !" 

"O, you rebel rascals!" perhaps the soldiers would 
reply, glaring fiercely at the young men. "Some day 
or other we'll make our way through Boston streets 
at the point of the bayonet!" 

Once or twice such disputes as these brought on a 
scuffle ; which passed off, however, without attracting 
much notice. About eight o'clock, for some unknown 
cause, an alarm-bell rang loudly and hurriedly. 

At the sound many people ran out of their houses, 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 211 

supposing it to be an alarm of fire. But there were 
no flames to be seen, nor was there any smell of smoke 
in the clear, frosty air ; so that most of the townsmen 
went back to their own fire-sides and sat talking with 
their wives and children about the calamities of the 
times. Others who were younger and less prudent 
remained in the streets ; for there seems to have been 
a presentiment that some strange event was on the eve 
of taking place. 

Later in the evening, not far from nine o'clock, sev- 
eral young men passed by the Town House and walked 
down King street. The sentinel was still on his post 
in front of the Custom House, pacing to and fro ; 
while, as he turned, a gleam of light from some neigh- 
boring window glittered on the barrel of his musket. 
At no great distance were the barracks and the guard- 
house, where his comrades were probably telling stories 
of battle and bloodshed. 

Down towards the custom house, as I told you, 
came a party of wild young men. When they drew 
near the sentinel he halted on his post, and took his 
musket from his shoulder, ready to present the bayo- 
net at their breasts. 

" Who goes there ?" he cried, in the gruff, peremp- 
tory tones of a soldier's challenge. 

The young men, being Boston boys, felt as if they 
had a right to walk their own streets without being 
accountable to a British red-coat, even though he 
challenged them in King George's name. They made 
some rude answer to the sentinel. There was a dis- 
pute, or perhaps a scuffle. Other soldiers heard the 



212 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

noise, and ran hastily from the barracks to assist their 
comrades. At the same time many of the town's 
people rushed into King street by various avenues, 
and gathered in a crowd round about the custom house. 
It seemed wonderful how such a multitude had started 
up all of a sudden. 

The wrongs and insults which the people had been 
suffering for many months now kindled them into a 
rage. They threw snow-balls and lumps of ice at the 
soldiers. As the tunnilt grew louder it reached the 
ears of Captain Preston, the officer of the day. He 
immediately ordered eight soldiers of the main guard 
to take their muskets and follow him. They marched 
across the street, forcing their way roughly through 
the crowd, and pricking the town's people with their 
bayonets. 

A gentleman (it was Henry Knox, afterwards gen- 
eral of the American artillery) caught Captain Pres- 
ton's arms. 

"For Heaven's sake sir," exclaimed he, "take heed 
what you do, or there will be bloodshed." 

" Stand aside !" answered Captain Preston, haugh- 
tily. "Do not interfere sir. I^eave me to manage 
the affair." 

Arriving at the sentiners post, Captain Preston 
drew up his men in a semicircle, with their faces to 
the crowd and their rear to the custom house. When 
the people saw the officer and beheld the threatening 
attitude with which the solders fronted them, their 
rage became almost uncontrollable. 

"Fire, you lobster-backs!" bellowed some. 




GENERAI. HENRY KNOX. 



214 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

"You dare not fire, you cowardly red-coats!" cried 
others. 

"Rush upon them!" shouted many voices. "Drive 
the rascals to their barracks! Down with them! 
Down with them! Let them fire if they dare!" 

Amid the uproar the soldiers stood glaring at the 
people with the fierceness of men whose trade was to 
shed blood. 

Oh, what a crisis had now arrived ! Up to this 
very moment, the angry feelings between England and 
America might have been pacified. England had but 
to stretch out the hand of reconciliation, and ac- 
knowledge that she had hitherto mistaken her rights, 
but would do so no more. Then the ancient bonds 
of brotherhood would again have been knit together 
as firmly as in old times. The habit of loyalty, which 
had grown as strong as instinct, was not utterly over- 
come. The perils shared, the victories won, in the 
Old French War, when the soldiers of the colonies 
fought side by side with their comrades from beyond 
the sea, were unforgotten yet. England was still that 
beloved country which the colonists called their home. 
King George, though he had frowned upon America, 
was still reverenced as a father. 

But should the king's soldiers shed one drop of 
American blood, then it was a quarrel to the death. 
Never — never would America rest satisfied until she 
had torn down the royal authority and trampled it in 
the dust. 

"Fire, if you dare, viUians!" hoarsely shouted the 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 215 

people, while the muzzles of the muskets were turned 
upon them, "you dare not fire !" 

They appeared ready to rush upon the levelled 
bayonets. Captain Preston waved his sword, and 
uttered a command which could not be distinctly 
heard amid the uproar of shouts that issued from a 
hundred throats. But his soldiers deemed that he had 
spoken the fatal mandate — "fire !" The flash of their 
muskets lighted up the streets, and the report rang 
loudly between the edifices. It was said, too, that the 
figure of a man, with a cloth hanging down over his 
face, was seen to step into the balcony of the custom 
house and discharge a musket at the crowd. 

A gush of smoke had overspread the scene. It 
rose heavily, as if it were loath to reveal the dreadful 
spectacle beneath it. Eleven of the sons of New 
England lay stretched upon the streets. Some, sorely 
wounded, were struggling to rise again. Others 
stirred not nor groaned ; for they were past all pain. 
Blood was streaming upon the snow ; and that purple 
stain in the midst of King street, though it melted 
away in the next day's sun, was never forgotten nor 
forgiven by the people. 



Grandfather was interrupted by the violent sobs of 
little Alice. In his earnestness he had neglected to 
soften down the narrative so that it might not terrify 
the heart of this unworldly infant. Since Grand- 
father began the history of our chair, little Alice had 
listened to many tales of war. But probably the idea 
had never really impressed itself upon her mind that 



2i6 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

men have shed the blood of then- fellow-creatures. 
And now that this idea was forcibly presented to her, 
it affected the sweet child with bewilderment and 
horror, 

" I ought to have remembered our dear little 
Alice," said Grandfather reproachfully to himself 
" Oh, what a pity ! Her heavenly nature has now 
received its first impression of earthly sin and violence. 
Well, Clara, take her to her bed and comfort her. 
Heaven grant that she may dream away the recollec- 
tion of the Boston Massacre !" 

" Grandfather," said Charley, when Clara and little 
Alice had retired, " did not the people rush upon the 
soldiers and take revenge?" 

" The town drums beat to arms," replied Grand- 
father, " the alarm bells rang, and an immense multi- 
tude rushed into King street. Many of them had 
weapons in their hands. The British prepared to 
defend themselves. A whole regiment was drawn up 
in the street, expecting an attack ; for the townsmen 
appeared ready to throw themselves upon the bayo- 
nets." 

"And how did it end?" asked Charley. 

"Governor Hutchinson hurried to the spot," said 
Grandfather, "and besought the people to have pa- 
tience, promising that strict justice should be done. 
A day or two afterward the British troops were with- 
drawn from town and stationed at Castle William. 
Captain Preston and the eight soldiers were triel for 
murder. But none of them were found guilty. The 
judges told the jury that the insults and violence 



2i8 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

which had been offered to the soldiers justified them 
in firing at the mob. 

"The Revohition," observed Laurence, who had 
said but little during the evening, "was not such a 
calm, majestic movement as I supposed. I do not 
love to hear of mobs and broils in the streets. These 
things were unworthy of the people when they had 
such a great object to accomplish." 

"Nevertheless, the world has seen no grander 
movement than that of our Revolution from first to 
last," said Grandfather. " The people, to a man, were 
full of a great and noble sentiment. True, there may 
be much fault to find with their mode of expressing 
this sentiment; but they knew no better — the neces- 
sity was upon them to act out their feelings in the 
best manner they could. We must forgive what was 
wrong in their actions, and look into their hearts and 
minds for the honorable motives that impelled them." 

"And I suppose," said Laurence, "there were men 
who knew how to act worthily of what they felt." 

"There were many such," replied Grandfather, 
"and we will speak of some of them hereafter." 

Grandfather here made a pause. That night 
Charley had a dream about the Boston massacre, and 
thought that he himself was in the crowd and struck 
down Captain Preston with a great club. Laurence 
dreamed that he was sitting in our great chair, at the 
window of the British Coffee House, and beheld the 
whole scence which Grandfather had described. It 
seemed to him, in his dream, that, if the town's peo- 
ple and the soldiers would have but heard him speak 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 219 

a single word, all the slaughter might have been 
averted. But there was such an uproar that it drowned 
his voice. 

The next morning the two boys went together to 
State street and stood on the very spot where the first 
blood of the Revolution had been shed. The Old 
State House was still there, presenting almost the 
same aspect that it had worn on that memorable even- 
ing, one and seventy years ago. It is the sole remain- 
ing witness of the Boston Massacre. 



CHAPTER VI. 

The next evening the astral lamp was lighted 
earlier than usual, because Laurence was very much 
engaged in looking over the collection of portraits 
which had been in his New Year's gift from Grand- 
father. 

Among them he found the features of more than 
one famous personage who had been connected with 
the adventures of our old chair. Grandfatber bade 
him draw the table nearer to the fire-side; and they 
looked over the portraits together, while Clara and 
Charley likewise lent their attention. As for little 
Alice, she sat in Grandfather's lap, and seemed to see 
the very men alive whose faces were there represented. 

Turning over the volume, Laurence came to the 
portrait of a stern, grim-looking man, in plain attire, 
of much more modern fashion than that of the old 
Puritans. But the face might well have befitted one 



220 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

of those iron-hearted men. Beneath the ]3ortrait was 
the name of vSamuel Adams. 

"He was a man of great note in all the doings that 
bronght abont the Revolntion,'' said Grandfather. 
" His character was snch, that it seemed as if one of 
the ancient Pnritans had been sent back to earth to 
animate the people's hearts wdth the same abhorrence 
of tyranny that had distingnished the earliest settlers. 
He was as religions as they, as stern and inflexible, 
and as deeply imbued with democratic principles. 
He, better than anyone else, may be taken as a rep- 
resentative of the people of New England, and of the 
spirit with which they engaged in the Revolutionary 
struggle. He was a poor man, and earned his bread 
by an humble occupation ; but with his tongue and 
pen he made the King of England tremble on his 
throne. Remember him, my children, as one of the 
strong men of our country.'' 

"Here is one whose looks show a very different 
character," observed Laurence, turning to the portrait 
of John Hancock. "I should think, by his splendid 
dress and courtly aspect, that he was one of the king's 
friends." 

"There never was a greater contrast than between 
Samuel Adams and John Hancock," said Grandfather. 
"Yet they were of the same side in politics, and had 
an equal agency in the Revolution. Hancock was 
born to the inheritance of the largest fortune in New 
England. His tastes and habits were aristocratic. 
He loved gorgeous attire, a splendid mansion, mag- 
nificent furniture, stately festivals, and all that was 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



glittering and pompous in external things. His man- 
ners were so polished that there stood not a nobleman 
at the footstool of King George's throne who was a 




SAMUE;I. ADAMS, OF MASSACHUSETTS. 



222 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

more skilful courtier than John Hancock might have 
been. Nevertheless, he in his embroidered clothes, 
and Samuel Adams in his thread-bare coat, wrought 
together in the cause of liberty. Adams acted from 
pure and rigid principles. Hancock, though he loved 
his country, yet thought quite as much of his own 
popularity as he did of the people's rights. It is re- 
markable that these two men, so very different as I 
describe them, were the only two exempted from 
pardon by the king's proclamation." 

On the next leaf of the book was a portrait of 
General Joseph Warren. Charley recognized the name, 
and said that here was a greater man than either 
Hancock or Adams. 

"Warren was an eloquent and able patriot," replied 
Grandfather. " He deserves a lasting memory for 
his zealous efforts in behalf of liberty. No man's 
voice was more powerful in Faneuil Hall than Joseph 
Warren's. If his death had not happened so early in 
the contest, he would probably have gained a high 
name as a soldier." 

The next portrait was a venerable man who held 
his thumb under his chin, and, through his spectacles, 
appeared to be attentively reading a manuscript. 

" Here we see the most illustrious Boston boy that 
ever lived," said Grandfather. "This is Benjamin 
Franklin ! But I will not try to compress into a few 
sentences the character of the sage, who, as a French- 
man expressed it, snatched the lightning from the sky, 
and the sceptre from a tyrant. Mr. Sparks must help 
you to the knowledge of Franklin." 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



223 



The book likewise contained portraits of James 
Otis and Josiali Quincy. Both of them Grandfather 
observed, were men of wonderful talents and true 
patriotism. Their voices were like the stirring tones 




BENJAMIN FRANKI^IN. 



of a trumpet arousing the country to defend its free- 
dom. Heaven seemed to have provided a greater 
number of eloquent men than had appeared at any 
other period, in order that the people might be fully 



224 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

instructed as to their wrongs and the method of resist- 
ance. 

"It is marvellous," said Grandfather, " to see how 
many powerful writers, orators, and soldiers started 
Up just at the time when they were wanted. There 
was a man for every kind of work. It is equally won- 
derful that men of such different characters were all 
made to unite in the one object of establishing the 
freedom and independence of America. There w^as 
an overruling Providence above them." 

" Here was another great man," remarked Ivaurence, 
pointing to the portrait of John Adams. 

" Yes ; an earnest, warm-tempered, honest, and 
most able man," said Grandfather. " At the period 
of which we are now speaking he was a lawyer in 
Boston. He was destined in after years to be ruler 
over the whole American people, whom he contributed 
so much to form into a nation. 

Grandfather here remarked that many a New 
Englander, who had passed his boyhood and youth 
in obscurity, afterwards attained to a fortune which 
he never could have foreseen even in his most 
ambitious dreams. John Adams the second Presi- 
dent of the United States and the equal of crowned 
kings, was once a schoolmaster, and a country lawyer. 
Hancock, the first signer of the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence, served his apprenticeship wdth a merchant. 
Samuel Adams, afterwards governor of Massachu- 
setts, was a small tradesman, and a tax-gatherer. 
General Warren was a physician. General Lincoln 
a farmer, and General Knox a bookbinder. General 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



22y 



Nathaniel Greene, the best soldier, except Wash- 
ington, in the Revolntionary army was a Quaker 
and a blacksmith. x^ll these became illustrious 




JOHN ADAMS. 
{Afterwards President of the United States.) 

men, and can never be forgotten in American history. 
"And any boy who is born in America may look 
forward to the same things," said our ambitious friend 
Charley. 

^5 



226 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

After these observations, Grandfather drew the 
book of portraits towards him and showed the chil- 
dren several British peers and members of Parliament 
who had exerted themselves either for or against the 
rights of America. There were the Earl of Bute, Mr. 
Grenville, and Lord North. These were looked upon 
as deadly enemies of our country. 

Among the friends of America was Mr. Pitt, after- 
ward Earl of Chatham, who spent so much of his 
wondrous eloquence in endeavoring to warn England 
of the consequences of her injustice. He fell down 
on the floor of the House of Lords after uttering 
almost his dying words in defence of our privileges 
as freemen. There was Edmund Burke, one of the 
wisest men and greatest orators that ever the world 
produced. There was Colonel Barre, who had been 
among our fathers, and knew that they had courage 
enough to die for their rights. There was Charles 
James Fox, who never rested until he had silenced our 
enemies in the House of Commons. 

"It is very remarkable to observe how many of the 
ablest orators in the British Parliament were favorable 
to America," said Grandfather. " We ought to re- 
member these great Englishmen with gratitude; for 
their speeches encouraged our fathers almost as much 
as those of our own orators in Faneuil Hall and under 
Liberty Tree. Opinions which might have been re- 
ceived with doubt, if expressed only by a native 
American, were set down as true, be3^ond dispute, 
when they came from the lips of Chatham, Burke, 
Barre, or Fox." 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 227 

'' But, Grandfather," asked Laurence, " were there 
no able and eloquent men in this country who took 
the part of King George ?" 

" There were many men of talent who said what 
they could in defence of the king's tyrannical pro- 
ceedings," replied Grandfather. " But they had the 
worst side of the argument, and therefore seldom said 
anything worth remembering. Moreover, their hearts 
were faint and feeble ; for they felt that the people 
scorned and detested them. They had no friends, no 
defence, except in the bayonets of the British troops. 
A blight fell upon all their faculties, because they were 
contending against the rights of their own native 
land." 

"What were the names of some of them?" in- 
quired Charley. 

"Governor Hutchison, Chief Justice Oliver, Judge 
Auchmuty, the Rev. Mather Byles, and several other 
clergymen, were among the most noted loyalists," 
answered Grandfather. 

" I wish the people had tarred and feathered every 
man of them !" cried Charley. 

"That wish is very wrong, Charley," said Grand- 
father. " You must not think that there was no integ- 
rity and honor except among those who stood up for 
the freedom of America. For aught I know, there 
was quite as much of these qualities on one side as on 
the other. Do you see nothing admirable in a faithful 
adherence to an unpopular cause ? Can you not respect 
that principle of loyalty which made the royalists give 
up country, friends, fortune, ever^'thing, rather than 



228 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

be false to llitir king? It was a mistaken principle; 
but man}' of them cherished it honorably, and were 
martyrs to it/' 

"Oh, I was wrong!" said Charley, ingeniously. 
"And I would risk my life rather than one of those 
good old royalists should be tarred and feathered." 

" The time is now come when we may judge fairly 
of them," continued Grandfather. " Be the good and 
true men among them honored ; for they were as much 
our countrymen as the patriots were. And, thank 
Heaven ! our country need not be ashamed of her 
sons, — of most of them at least, — whatever side they 
took in the revolutionary contest." 

Among the portraits was one of King George the 
Third. Little Alice clapped her hands, and seemed 
pleased with the bluff good nature of his physiognomy. 
But Laurence thought it strange that a man with such 
a face, indicating hardh' a common share of intellect, 
should have had influence enough on human affairs to 
convulse the world with war. Grandfather observed 
that this poor king had always appeared to him one of 
the most unfortunate persons that ever lived. He was 
so honest and conscientious, that, if he had been only 
a private man, his life would probably have been 
blameless and happ} . But his was that worst of for- 
tunes, to be placed in a station far beyond his abilities. 

" And so," said Grandfather, " his life, while he re- 
tained what intellect Heaven had gifted him with, was 
one long mortification. At last he grew crazed with 
care and trouble. For nearly twenty years, the monarch 
of England was confined as a madman. In his old age. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 229 

too, God took away his eye-sight ; so that his royal 
palace was nothing to him but a dark, lonesome prison- 
house." 

CHAPTER VII. 

" Our old chair," resumed Grandfather, " did not 
now stand in the midst of a gay circle of British 
officers. The troops, as I told you, had been removed 
to Castle William immediately after the Boston mas- 
sacre. Still, however, there were many tories, custom- 
house officers, and Englishmen who used to assemble 
in the British Coffee House and talk over the affairs of 
the period. Matters grew worse and worse ; and in 
1773 the people did a deed which incensed the king 
and ministry more than any of their former doings." 

Grandfather here described the affair, which is 
known by the name of the Boston Tea Party. The 
Americans, for some time past, had left off* importing 
tea, on account of the oppressive tax. The East India 
Company, in London, had a large stock of tea on hand, 
which they expected to sell to the Americans, but 
could find no market for it. But, after a while, the 
government persuaded this company of merchants to 
send the tea to America. 

" How odd it is," observed Clara, " that the liber- 
ties of America should have had anything to do with 
a cup of tea !" 

Grandfather smiled, and proceeded with his narra- 
tive. When the people of Boston heard that several 
cargoes of tea were coming across the x\tlantic, they 



230 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

held a great many meetings at Faneuil Hall, in 
the Old South Church, and under Liberty Tree. In 
the midst of their debates, three ships arrived in the 
harbor with the tea on board. The people spent more 
than a fortnight in consulting what should be done. 
At last, on the i6th of December, 1773, they demanded 
of Governor Hutchinson that he should immediately 
send the ships back to England. 

The governor replied that the ships must not leave 
the harbor until the custom house duties upon the tea 
should be paid. Now, the payment of these duties 
was the very thing against which the people had set 
their faces ; because it was a tax unjustly imposed 
upon America by the English government. There- 
fore, in the dusk of the evening, as soon as Governor 
Hutchinson's reply was received, an immense crowd 
hastened to Griffin's wharf, where the- tea ships lay. 
The place is now called Liverpool wharf 

" When the crowd reached the wharf," said Grand- 
father, " they saw that a set of wild-looking figures 
were already on board of the ships. You would have 
imagined that the Indian warriors of old times had 
come back again ; for they wore the Indian dress, and 
had their faces covered with red and black paint, like 
the Indians when they go to war. These grim figures 
hoisted the tea chests on the decks of the vessels, broke 
them open, and threw all the contents into the harbor." 

"Grandfather," said little Alice, "I suppose Indians 
don't love tea ; else they would never waste it so." 

" They were not real Indians, my child," answered 
Grandfather. "They were white men in disguise; 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



231 



because a heavy punishment would have been inflicted 
on them if the king's officers had found who they 
were. But it was never known. From that day to 
this, though the matter has been talked of by all the 




world, nobody can tell the names of those Indian fig- 
ures. Some people say there were very famous men 
among them, who afterwards became governors and 
generals. Whether this be true I cannot tell." 



232 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

When tidings of this bold deed were carried to 
England, King George was greatly enraged. Parlia- 
ment immediately passed an act by which all vessels 
were forbidden to take in or discharge their cargoes 
at the port of Boston. In this way they expected to 
ruin all the merchants, and starve the poor people, by 
depriving them of employment. At the same time 
another act was passed, taking away many rights and 
privileges which had been granted in the charter of 
Massachusetts. 

Governor Hutchinson, soon afterward, was sum- 
moned to England, in order that he might give liis 
advice about the management of American affairs. 
General Gage, an officer of the Old French War, and 
since commander-in-chief of the British forces in 
America, was appointed governor in his stead. One 
of his first acts was to make Salem, instead of Boston 
the metropolis of Massachusetts, by summoning the 
General Court to meet there. 

According to Grandfather's description, this was 
the most gloomy time that Massachusetts had ever 
seen. The people groaned under as heavy a tyranny 
as in the days of Sir Edmund Andros. Boston looked 
as if it were afflicted with some dreadful pestilence, 
— so sad were the inhabitants, and so desolate the 
streets. There was no cheerful hum of business. 
The merchants shut up their warehouses, and the la- 
boring men stood idle about the wharves. But all 
America felt interested in the good town of Boston ; 
and contributions were raised, in many places, for the 
relief of the poor inhabitants. 



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THE DEFENCE OF BREED'S HII,!, : PRESCOTT IN THE REDOUBT. 



234 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

" Our dear old chair !" exclaimed Clara. " How 
dismal it must have been now !" 

"Oh," replied Grandfather, "a gay throng of offi- 
cers had now come back to the British Coffee House ; 
so that the old chair had no lack of mirthful com- 
pany. Soon after General Gage became governor a 
great many troops had arrived, and were encamped upon 
the Common. Boston was now a garrisoned and forti- 
fied town ; for the general had built a battery across 
the neck, on the road to Roxbury, and placed guards 
for its defence. Everything looked as if a civil war 
were close at hand. 

"Did the people make ready to fight?" asked 
Charley. 

" A Continental Congress assembled at Philadel- 
phia," said Grandfather, "and proposed such meas- 
ures as they thought most conducive to the public good. 
A provincial Congress was likewise chosen in Massa- 
chusetts. They exhorted the people to arm and dis- 
cipline themselves. A great number of minute men 
were enrolled. The Americans called them minute- 
men, because they engaged to be read}^ to fight at a 
minute's warning. The English officers laughed, and 
said that the name was a very proper one, because the 
minute men would run away the minute they saw the 
enemy. Whether they would fight or run was soon 
to be proved." 

Grandfather told the children that the first open 
resistance offered to the British troops, in the province 
of Massachusetts, was at Salem. Colonel Timothy 
Pickering, with thirty or forty militia men, prevented 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 




the English colonel, Les- 
lie, with four times as 
many regular soldiers, 
from taking possession of 
some military stores. No 
blood was shed on this 
occasion ; but soon after- 
ward it began to flow. 

General Gage sent 
eight hundred soldiers to 
Concord, about eighteen 
miles from Boston, to de- 
stroy some ammunition 
and provisions which the 
colonists had collected 
there. They set out on 
their march on the even- 
ing of the 1 8th of April, 
1775. The next morning, 
the general sent Lord 
Percy with nine hundred 
men to strengthen the 
troops that had gone be- 
fore. All that day the in- 
habitants of Boston heard 
various rumors. Some 
said that the British were 
making great slaughter 
among our countrymen. 
Others affirmed that every 
man had turned out with 



AMERICAN RIFI^EMAN 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



237 



his musket, and not a single 
British soldier would ever 
get back to Boston. 

" It was after sunset," 
continued Grandfather, 
" when the troops who had 
marched forth so proudly, 
were seen entering Charles- 
town. They were covered 
with dust, and so hot and 
weary that their tongues 
hung out of their mouths. 
Many of them were faint 
with wounds. They had not 
all returned. Nearly three 
hundred were strewn, dead 
or dying, along the road 
from Concord. The yeo- 
manry had risen upon the 
invaders and driven them 
back." 

"Was this the battle of 
Ivcxington?" asked Charley. 

"Yes," replied Grand- 
father ; " it was so called, be- 
cause the British, without 
provocation, had fired upon 
a party of minute men, near 
Lexington meeting-house, _ 
and killed eight of them. *^ 
That fatal volley, which was 




BRITISH GRENADIER. 



238 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

fired by order of Major Pitcairn, began the war of 
the Revohition." 

About this time, if Grandfather had been correctly 
informed, our chair disappeared from the British 
Coffee House. The manner of its departure cannot 
be satisfactorily ascertained. Perhaps the keeper of 
the Coffee House turned it out of doors on account of 
its old-fashioned aspect. Perhaps he sold it as a curi- 
osity. Perhaps it was taken, without leave, by some 
person who regarded it as the public property because 
it had once figured under Liberty Tree. Or, perhaps, 
the old chair, being of a peaceable disposition, had 
made use of its four oaken legs and run away from 
the seat of war. 

" It would have made a terrible clattering over the 
pavement," said Charley, laughing. 

" Meanwhile," continued Grandfather, " during the 
mysterious non-appearance of our chair, an army of 
twenty thousand men had started up and come to the 
siege of Boston. General Gage and his troops were 
cooped up within the narrow precincts of the penin- 
sula. On the 17th of June, 1775, the famous battle 
of Bunker Hill was fought. Here General Warren 
fell. The British got the victory, indeed, but with 
the loss of more than a thousand officers and men." 

" Oh, Grandfather," cried Charley, " you must tell 
us about that famous battle." 

" No, Charley," said Grandfather, " I am not like 
other historians. Battles shall not hold a prominent 
place in the history of our quiet and comfortable old 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 239 

chair. But to-morrow evening, Ivaurence, Clara, and 
yourself, and dear little Alice too, shall visit the dio- 
rama of Bunker Hill. There you shall see the whole 
business, the burning of Charlestown and all, with your 
own eyes, and hear the cannon and musketry with 
your own ears." 

CHAPTER VIII. 

The next evening but one, when the children had 
given Grandfather a full account of the diorama of 
Bunker Hill, they entreated him not to keep them 
any longer in suspense about the fate of his chair. 
The reader will recollect that, at the last accounts, it 
had trotted away upon its poor old legs nobody knew 
whither. But, before gratifying their curiosity. Grand- 
father found it necessary to say something about public 
events. 

The Continental Congress which was assembled at 
Philadelphia, was composed of delegates from all the 
colonies. They had now appointed GEORGE Wash- 
ington, of Virginia, to be Commander-in-chief of all 
the American armies. He was, at that time, a mem- 
ber of Congress ; but immediately left Philadelphia, 
and began his journey to Massachusetts. On the 3d 
of July, 1775, he arrived at Cambridge and took 
command of the troops which were besieging General 
Gage. 

"Oh! Grandfather," exclaimed Laurence, "it makes 
my heart throb to think what is coming now. We 
are to see General Washington himself" 



240 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

The children crowded around Grandfather and 
looked earnestly into his face. Even little Alice 
opened her sweet blue eyes, with her lips apart, and 
almost held her breath to listen ; so instinctive is the 
reverence of childhood for the father of his country. 
Grandfather paused a moment ; for he felt as if it 
might be irreverent to introduce the hallowed shade 
of Washington into a history where an ancient elbow 
chair occupied the most prominent place. However, 
he determined to proceed with his narrative, and 
speak of the hero when it was needful, but with an 
unambitious simplicity. 

So Grandfather told his auditors, that, on General 
Washington's arrival at Cambridge, his first care was 
to reconnoitre the British troops with his spy-glass, 
and to examine the condition of his own army. He 
found that the American troops amounted to about 
fourteen thousand men. They were extended all round 
the peninsula of Boston, a space of twelve miles, from 
the high grounds of Roxbury on the right to Mystic 
River on the left. Some were living in tents of sail- 
cloth, some in shanties rudely constructed of boards, 
some in huts of stone or turf with curious windows 
and doors of basket-work. 

In order to be near the centre and oversee the 
whole of this wide-stretched army, the commander-in- 
chief made his headquarters at Cambridge, about half 
a mile from the colleges. A mansion-house, which 
perhaps had been the country-seat of some tory gentle- 
man, was provided for his residence. 

"When General Washington first entered this man- 




i6 



GENERAIv GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

[Commander-in-chief of the Patriot Armies.) 



242 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

sion," said Grandfather, "lie was ushered up the 
stair-case and shown into a handsome apartment. He 
sat down in a large chair, which was the most con- 
spicuous object in the room. The noble figure of 
Washington would have done honor to a throne. As 
he sat there, with his hand resting on the hilt of his 
sheathed sword which was placed between his knees, 
his whole aspect well befitted the chosen man on whom 
his country leaned for the defence of her dearest rights. 
America seemed safe under his protection. His face 
was grander than any sculptor had ever wrought in 
marble ; none could behold him without awe and 
reverence. Never before had the lion's head at the 
summit of the chair looked down upon such a face 
and form as Washington's." 

"Why! Grandfather!" cried Clara, clasping her 
hands in amazement, " was it really so ? Did General 
Washington sit in our great chair ?" 

" I knew how it would be," said Laurence ; "I fore- 
saw it the moment Grandfather began to s]3eak." 

Grandfather smiled. But, turning from the per- 
sonal and domestic life of the illustrious leader, he 
spoke of the methods which Washington adopted to 
win back the metropolis of New England from the 
British. 

The army, when he took command of it, was with- 
out any discipline or order. The privates considered 
themselves as good as their officers ; and seldom 
thought it necessary to obey their commands, unless 
they understood the w^hy and wherefore. Moreover, 
they were enlisted for so short a period, that, as soon 



u 



■ i 




BATTI.E OF BUNKER S HII,!,. 



244 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

as tliey began to be respectable soldiers, it was time 
to discharge them. Then came new recruits, who 
had to be taught their duty before they could be of 
any ser\'ice. Such was the army with which Wash- 
ington had to contend against more than twenty 
veteran British regiments. 

Some of the men had no muskets, and almost all 
were without bayonets. Heavy cannon, for battering 
the British fortifications, were much wanted. There 
was but a small quantity of powder and ball, few tools 
to build intrenchments with, and a great deficiency 
of provisions and clothes for the soldiers. Yet, in 
spite of these perplexing difficulties, the eyes of the 
whole people were fixed on General Washington, 
expecting him to undertake some great enterprise 
against the hostile army. 

The first thing that he found necessary was to bring 
his own men into better order and discipline. It is 
wonderful how soon he transformed this rough mob 
of country people into the semblance of a regular 
arm}'. One of Washington's most invaluable charac- 
teristics was the faculty of bringing order out of con- 
fusion. All business with which he had any concern 
seemed to regulate itself as if by magic. The influ- 
ence of his mind was like light gleaming through an 
unshaped world. It was this faculty, more than any 
other, that made him so fit to ride upon the storm of 
the Revolution when everything was unfixed and 
drifting about in a troubled sea. 

" Washington had not been long at the head of the 
army," proceeded Grandfather, " before his soldiers 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



245 



thought as highly of him as if he had led them to a 
hundred victories. They knew that he was the very 
man whom the country needed, and the onlv one who 




GENERAI, HORATIO GATES. 

could bring them safely through the great contest 
against the might of England. They put entire con- 
fidence in his courge, wisdom, and integrity." 



246 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

" And were they not eager to follow him against 
the British?" asked Charley. 

*' Doubtless they would have gone whithersoever 
his* sword pointed the way," answered Grandfather; 
"and Washington was anxious to make a decisive 
assault upon the enemy. But as the enterprise was 
very hazardous, he called a council of all the generals 
in the army. Accordingly they came from their dif- 
ferent posts, and were ushered into the reception-room. 
The commander-in-chief arose from our great chair to 
greet them." 

" What were their names?" asked Charley. 

"There was General Artemus Ward," replied 
Grandfather, " a lawyer by profession. He had com- 
manded the troops before Washington's arrival. An- 
other was General Charles Lee, who had been a colonel 
in the English army, and was thought to possess vast 
military science. He came to the council, followed by 
two or three dogs which were always at his heels. 
There was General Putnam, too, who was known all 
over New England by the name of Old Put." 

" Was it he who killed the w^olf ?" inquired Charley. 

"The same," said Grandfather ; "and he had done 
good service in the old French War. His occupation 
was that of a farmer ; but he left his plough in the 
furrow at the news of Lexington battle. Then there 
was General Gates, who afterward gained great re- 
nown at Saratoga, and lost it again at Camden. Gen- 
eral Greene, of Rhode Island, was likewise at the 
council. Washington soon discovered him to be one 
of the best officers in the army." 




GKNERAI, ISRAEI, PUTNAM. 



248 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

When the generals were all assembled, Washington 
consulted them about a plan for storming the English 
batteries. But it was their unanimous opinion that 
so perilous an enterprise ought not to be attempted. 
The army, therefore, continued to besiege Boston, pre- 
venting the enemy from obtaining supplies of provis- 
ions, but without taking any immediate measures to 
get possession of the town. In this manner the sum- 
mer, autumn, and winter passed away. 

" Many a night, doubtless," said Grandfather, " after 
Washington had been all day on horseback, galloping 
from one post of the army to another, he used to sit in 
our great chair, wrapped in earnest thought. Had you 
seen him, you might have supposed that his whole 
mind was fixed on the blue china tiles which adorned 
the old fashioned fireplace. But, in reality, he was 
meditating how to capture the British arm}^, or drive 
it out of Boston. Once, when there was a hard frost, 
he formed a scheme to cross the Charles River on the 
ice. But the other generals could not be persuaded 
that there was any prospect of success." 

"What were the British doing all this time?" in- 
quired Charley. 

" They lay idle in the town," replied Grandfather. 
" G^nsral Gage had been recalled to England, and was 
succeeded by Sir William Howe. The British army 
and the inhabitants of Boston were now in great dis- 
tress. Being shut up in the town so long, they had 
consumed almost all their provisions and burned up 
all their fuel. The soldiers tore down the Old North 
church, and used its rotten boards and timbers for fire- 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 249 

wood. To heighten their distress, the small-pox broke 
out. The}' probably lost far more men by cold, 
hunger, and sickness than had been slain at Lexington 
and Bunker Hill." 

'' What a dismal time for the poor women and 
children !" exclaimed Clara. 

" At length," continued Grandfather, " in Marcli 
1776, General Washington, who had now a good sup- 
ply of powder, began a terrible cannonade and bom- 
bardment from Dorchester heights. One of the cannon 
balls which he fired into the town struck the tower of 
the Brattle Street church, where it may still be seen. 
Sir William Howe made preparation to cross over in 
boats and drive the Americans from their batteries, but 
was prevented by a violent gale and storm. General 
Washington next erected a battery on Nook's hill, so 
near the enemy that it was impossible for them to 
remain in Boston any longer." 

" Hurrah ! Hurrah ! " cried Charle\', clapping his 
hands triumphanly. " I wish I had been there to see 
how sheepish the Englishmen looked." 

And, as Grandfather thought that Boston had never 
witnessed a more interesting period than this, when 
the royal power was in its death agony, he determined 
to take a peep into the town and imagine the feelings 
of those who were quitting it forever. 



CHAPTER IX. 

"Alas! for the poor tories!" said Grandfather. 
" Until the very last morning after Washington's 



250 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

troops had shown themselves on Nook's hill, these 
unfortunate persons could not believe that the auda- 
cious rebels, as they called the Americans, would ever 
prevail against King George's army. But when they 
saw the British soldiers preparing to embark on board 
of the ships of war, then they knew that they had lost 
their country. Could the patriots have known how 
bitter were their regrets, they would have forgiven 
them all their evil deeds, and sent a blessing after 
them as they sailed away from their native shore." 

In order to make the children sensible of the piti- 
able condition of these men. Grandfather singled out 
Peter Oliver, chief justice of Massachusetts under the 
crown, and imagined him walking through the streets 
of Boston on the morning before he left it forever. 

This effort of Grandfather's fancy may be called — 

THE TORY'S FAREWEI.I.. 

Old Chief Justice Oliver threw on his red cloak, 
and placed his three-cornered hat on the top of his 
white wig. In this garb he intended to go forth and 
take a parting look at objects that had been familiar 
to him from his youth. Accordingly, he began his 
walk in the north part of the town, and soon came to 
Faneuil Hall. This edifice, the cradle of liberty, had 
been used by the British officers as a play house. 

''Would that I could see its walls crumble to 
dust!" thought the chief justice ; and, in the bitterness 
of his heart, he shook his fist at the famous hall. 
"There began the mischief which now threatens to 
rend asunder the British empire ! The seditious har- 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 251 

angues of the demagogues in Faneuil Hall have made 
rebels of a loyal people and deprived me of my coun- 
try." 

He then passed through a narrow avenue and found 
himself in King street, almost on the very spot which, 
six years before, had been reddened by the blood of 
the Boston Massacre. The chief justice stepped cau- 
tiously, and shuddered, as if he were afraid that, even 
now, the gore of his slaughtered countrymen might 
stain his feet.. 

Before him rose the town house, on the front of 
which were still displaced the royal arms. Within 
that edifice he had dispensed justice to the people in 
the days when his name was never mentioned without 
honor. There, too, was the balcony whence the trum- 
pet had been sounded and the proclamation read to an 
assembled multitude, whenever a new king of England 
ascended the throne. 

" I remember — I remember," said Chief Justice 
Oliver to himself, "when his present most sacred 
majesty was proclaimed. Then how the people 
shouted ! Each man would have poured out his life- 
blood to keep a hair of King George's head from harm. 
But now there is scarcely a tongue in all New Eng- 
land that does not imprecate curses on his name. It 
is ruin and disgrace to love him. Can it be possible 
that a few fleeting years have wrought such a change !" 

It did not occur to the chief justice that nothing 
but the most grevious tyranny could so soon have 
changed the people's hearts. Hurrying from the spot, 
he entered Cornhill, as the lower part of Washington 



2 52 GRANDFATHER'S CM AIR. 

street was then called. Opposite to the Town House 
was the waste foundation of the Old North church. 
The sacrilegious hands of the British soldiers had torn 
it down, and kindled their barrack fires with the frag- 
ments. 

Farther on he passed beneath the tower of the Old 
South. The threshold of this sacred edifice was worn 
by the iron tramp of horses' feet ; for the interior had 
been used as a riding-school and rendezvous, for a regi- 
ment of dragoons. As the chief justice lingered an 
instant at the door a trumpet sounded within, and the 
regiment came clattering forth and gallopped down 
the street. They were proceeding to the place of 
embarkation. 

"Let them go!" thought the chief justice, with 
somewhat of an old Puritan feeling in his breast. 
"No good can come of men who desecrate the house 
of God." 

He went on a few steps farther, and paused before 
the Province House. No range of brick stores had 
then sprung up to hide the mansion of the royal gov- 
ernors from public view. It had a spacious court-yard, 
bordered with trees, and enclosed with a wrought iron 
fence. On the cupola that surmounted the edifice was 
the gilded figure of an Indian chief, ready to let fly an 
arrow from his bow. Over the wide front door was a 
balcony, in which the chief justice had often stood 
when the governor and high officers of the province 
showed themselves to the people. 

While Chiet Justice Oliver gazed sadly at the Prov- 
ince House, before which a sentinel was pacing, the 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



253 



double leaves of the door were thrown open, and Sir 
William Howe made his appearance. Behind him 
came a throng of officers, whose steel scabbards clat- 
tered against the stones as thev hastened down the 
court-yard. Sir Wil- 
liam Howe was a 
dark-complexioned 
man, stern and 
haughty in his de- 
portment. He 
stepped as proudly, 
in that hour of de- 
feat, as if he were 
going to receive the 
submission of the 
rebel general. 

The chief justice 
bowed and accosted 
him. 

" This is a griev- 
ous hour for both 
of us, Sir William," 
said he. 

" Forward ! gen- 
tlemen," said Sir 
William Howe to 
the officers who attended him : 
hear lamentations now !" 

And, coldly bowing, he departed. Thus the chief 
justice had a foretaste of the mortifications which the 
exiled New Bnglanders afterwards suffered from the 




GENERAL WILLIAM HuWE- 



we have no time to 



254 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 

haughty Britons. They were despised even by that 
country which they had served more faithfully than 
their own. 

A still heavier trial awaited Chief Justice Oliver as 
he passed onward from the Province House. He was 
recognized by the people in the street. They had 
long known him as the descendant of an ancient and 
honorable family. They had seen him sitting in his 
scarlet robes upon the judgment seat. All his life long, 
either for the sake of his ancestors or on account of 
his own dignified station and unspotted character, he 
had been held in high respect. The old gentry of the 
province were looked upon almost as noblemen while 
Massachusetts was under royal government. 

But now, all hereditary reverence for birth and rank 
was gone. The inhabitants shouted in derision when 
they saw the venerable form of the old chief justice. 
They laid the wrongs of the country and their own 
sufferings during the siege — their hunger, cold, and 
sickness — partly to his charge and to that of his 
brother Andrew and his kinsman Hutchinson. It 
was by their advice that the king had acted in all the 
colonial troubles. But the day of recompense was 
come. 

"See the old tory!" cried the people, with bitter 
laughter. "He is taking his last look at us. Let 
him show his white wig among us an hour hence, and 
we'll give him a coat of tar and feathers!" 

The chief justice, however, knew that he need fear 
no violence so long as the British troops were in pos- 
session of the town. But, alas ! it was a bitter thought 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 255 

that he should leave no loving memory behind him. 
His forefathers, long after their spirits left the earth, 
had been honored in the affectionate remembrance of 
the people. But he, who would henceforth be dead 
to his native land, would have no epitaph save scorn- 
ful and vindictive words. The old man wept. 

" They curse me — they invoke all kinds of evil on 
my head!" thought he, in the midst of his tears. 
^' But, if they could read my heart, they would know 
that I love New England well. Heaven bless her, 
and bring her again under the rule of our gracious 
king ! A . blessing, too, on these poor, misguided 
people !" 

The chief justice flung out his hands with a ges- 
ture, as if he were bestowing a parting benediction on 
his countrymen. He had now reached the southern 
portion of the town, and was far within the range of 
cannon shot from the American batteries. Close be- 
hind him was the broad stump of a tree, which ap- 
peared to have been recently cut down. Being weary 
and heavy at heart, he was about to sit down upon the 
stump. 

Suddenly it flashed upon his recollection that this 
was the stump of Liberty Tree ! The British soldiers 
had cut it down, vainly boasting that they could as 
easily overthrow the liberties of America. Under its 
shadowy branches, ten years before, the brother of 
Chief Justice Oliver had been compelled to acknowl- 
edge the supremacy of the people by taking the oath 
which they prescribed. This tree was connected with 
all the events that had severed America from England. 



256 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

*' Accursed tree !'^ cried the chief justice, gnashing 
his teeth : for anger overcame his sorrow. '' Would 
that thou hadst been left standing till Hancock, 
Adams, and every other traitor, were hanged upon thy 
branches ! Then fitly mightest thou have been hewn 
down and cast into the flames." 

He turned back, hurried to Long wharf without 
looking behind him, embarked with the British troops 
for Halifax, and never saw his country more. Through- 
out the remainder of his da}s Chief Justice Oliver was 
agitated with those same conflicting emotions that had 
tortured hiin while taking his farewell walk through 
the streets of Boston. Deep love and fierce resent- 
ment burned in one flame within his breast. Anathe- 
mas struo:o:led with benedictions. He felt as if one 
breath of his native air would renew his life, yet 
would have died rather than breathe the same air with 
rebels. And such likewise were the feelings of the 
other exiles, a thousand in number, who departed with 
the British army. Were they not the most unfortu- 
nate of men ? 



"The misfortune of those exiled tories," observed 
Ivaurence, " must have made them think of the poor 
exiles of x\cadia." 

" They had a sad time of it, I suppose," said Char- 
ley. " But I choose to rejoice with the patriots, rather 
than be sorrowful with the tories. Grandfather, what 
did General Washington do now?" 

" As the rear of the British army embarked from 
the wharf," replied Grandfather, " General Washing- 




17 



258 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

ton's troops marched over the neck, through the forti- 
fication gates, and entered Boston in triumph. And 
now, for the first time since the pilgrims landed, Mas- 
sachusetts was free from the dominion of England. 
May she never again be subjected to foreign rule,— 
never again feel the rod of oppression !" 

''Dear Grandfather," asked little Alice, "did Gen- 
eral Washington bring our chair back to Boston?" 

" I know not how long the chair remained at Cam- 
bridge," said Grandfather. " Had it stayed there till 
this time, it could not have found a better or more 
appropriate shelter. The mansion which General 
Washington occupied is still standing ; and his apart- 
ments have since been tenanted by several eminent 
men. Governor Everett, while a professor in the uni- 
versity, resided there. So at an after period did Mr. 
Sparks, whose invaluable labors have connected his 
name with the immortality of Washington. And at 
this very time a venerable friend and contemporary 
of your Grandfather, after long pilgrimages beyond 
the sea, has set up his staff of rest at Washington's 
headquarters." 

" You mean Professor Longfellow, Grandfather," 
said Laurence. " Oh, how I should love to see the 
author of those beautiful Voices OK thk Night !" 

" We will visit him next summer," answered Grand- 
father, " and take Clara and little Alice with us, — and 
Charley, too, if he will be quiet." 



CHAPTER X. 

When Grandfather resumed his narrative the next 
evening, he told the children that he had some diffi- 
culty in tracing the movements of the chair during a 
short period after General Washington's departure 
from Cambridge. 

Within a few months, however, it made its appear- 
ance at a shop in Boston, before the door of which 
was seen a striped pole. In the interior was displayed 
a stuffed alligator, a rattlesnake's skin, a bundle of In- 
dian arrows, an old-fashioned matchlock gun, a walk- 
ing-stick of Governor Winthrop's, a wig of old Cotton 
Mather's, and a colored print of the Boston massacre. 
In short, it was a barber's shop, kept by a Mr. Pierce, 
who prided himself on having shaved General Wash- 
ington, Old Put, and many other famous persons. 

" This was not a very dignified situation for our 
venerable chair," continued Grandfather ; " but, you 
know, there is no better place for news than a barber's 
shop. All the events of the Revolutionary War were 
heard of there sooner than anywhere else. People 
used to sit in the chair, reading the newspaper, or 
talking, and waiting to be shaved, while Mr. Pierce, 
with his scissors and razor, was at work upon the 
heads or chins of his other customers." 

" I am sorry the chair could not betake itself to 
some more suitable place of refuge," said lyaurence. 
" It was old now, and must have longed for quiet. 
Besides, after it had held Washington in its arms, it 
ought not to have been compelled to receive all the 



26o GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

world. It should have been put into the pulpit of 
the Old South church, or some other consecrated 
place." 

" Perhaps so," answered Grandfather. '' But the 
chair, in the course of its varied existence, had grown 
so accustomed to general intercourse with society, that 
I doubt whether it would have contented itself in the 
pulpit of the Old South. There it would have stood 
solitary, or with no livelier companion than the silent 
organ, in the opposite gallery, six days out of seven. 
I incline to think that it had seldom been situated 
more to its mind than on the sanded floor of the snug 
little barber's shop." 

" Then Grandfather amused his children and him- 
self with fancying all the different sorts of people who 
had occupied our chair while they awaited the leisure 
of the barber. 

There was the old clergyman, such as Dr. Chaun- 
cey, wearing a white wig, which the barber took from 
his head and placed upon a wig-block. Half an hour, 
perhaps, was spent in combing and powdering this 
reverend appendage to a clerical skull. There, too, 
were officers of the continental army, who required 
their hair to be pomatumed and plastered, so as to 
give them a bold and martial aspect. There, once 
in a while, was seen the thin, care-worn, melancholy 
visage of an old tory, with a wig that, in times long 
past, had perhaps figured at a Province House ball. 
And there, not unfrequently, sat the rough captain 
of a privateer, just returned from a successful cruise, 
in which he had captured half a dozen richly laden 




GENERAL RICHARD MONTGOMERY. 



262 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

vessels belonging to King George's subjects. And 
sometimes a rosy little school-boy climbed into our 
chair, and sat staring, with wide-open eyes, at the alli- 
gator, the rattlesnake, and the other curiosities of the 
barber's shop. His mother had sent him, with six- 
pence in his hand, to get his glossy curls cropped off. 
The incidents of the Revolution plentifully supplied 
the barber's customers with topics of conversation. 
They talked sorrowfully of the death of General Mont- 
gomery and the failure of our troops to take Quebec ; 
for the New Englanders were now as anxious to get 
Canada from the English as they had formerly been to 
conquer it from the French. 

'' But, very soon," said Grandfather, " came news 
from Philadelphia, the most important that America 
had ever heard of On the 4th of July, 1776, Con- 
gress had signed the Declaration of Independence. 
The thirteen colonies were now free and independent 
states. Dark as our prospects were, the inhabitants 
welcomed these glorious tidings, and resolved to perish 
rather than again bear the yoke of England ! " 

"And I would perish, too!" cried Charley. 

" It was a great day, — a glorious deed!" said Lau- 
rence, coloring high with enthusiasm. " And, Grand- 
father, I love to think that the sages in Congress 
showed themselves as bold and true as the soldiers in 
the field ; for it must have required more courage to 
sign the Declaration of Independence than to fight the 
enemy in battle." 

Grandfather acquiesced in Laurence's view of the 
matter. He then touched briefly and hastily upon 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



263 



the prominent events of the Revolution. The thun- 
der-storm of war had now rolled southward, and did 
not again burst upon Massachusetts, where its first 
fury had been felt. But she contributed her full share 
to the success of the contest. Wherever a battle was 
fought, — whether at Long Island, White Plains, Tren- 




INDEPENDENCE) HAI<Iv IN 1 776. 

ton, Princeton, Brandywine, or Germantown, — some 
of her brave sons were found slain upon the field. 

In October, 1777, General Burgoyne surrendered 
his army, at Saratoga, to the American general, Gates. 
The captured troops were sent to Massachusetts. Not 
long afterwards. Dr. Franklin and other American 
commissioners made a treaty at Paris, by which 



264 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

France bound herself to assist our countrymen. The 
gallant Lafayette was already fighting for our freedom 
by the side of Washington. In 1778 a French fleet, 
commanded by Count d'Kstaing, spent a considerable 
time in Boston harbor. It marks the vicissitudes of 
human affairs, that the French, our ancient enemies, 
should come hither as comrades and brethren, and that 
kindred England should be our foe. 

"While the war was raging in the middle and 
southern states," proceeded Grandfather, " Massachu- 
setts had leisure to settle a new constitution of govern- 
ment instead of the royal charter. This was done in 
1780. In the same year John Hancock, who had been 
president of Congress, was chosen governor of the 
state. He was the first whom the people had elected 
since the days of old Simon Brads treet." 

" But, Grandfather, who had been governor since 
the British were driven away?" inquired Laurence. 
" General Gage and Sir William Howe were the last 
whom you have told us of" 

"There had been no governor for the last four 
years," replied Grandfather. " Massachusetts had been 
ruled by the legislature, to whom the people paid obe- 
dience of their own accord. It is one of the most 
remarkable circumstances in our history, that, when 
the charter government was overthrown by the war, 
no anarchy nor the slightest confusion ensued. This 
was a great honor to the people. But, now, Hancock 
was proclaimed governor by sound of trumpet ; and 
there was again a settled government." 

Grandfather again adverted to the progress of the 




READING th^ pe;ci,ara.tion 01^ inde;pe;ndknce: to thk army. 



266 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

war. In 1781 General Greene drove the British from 
the southern states. In October of the same year 
General Washington compelled Lord Cornwallis to 
surrender his army, at Yorktown, in Virginia. This 
was the last great event of the revolutionary contest. 
King George and his ministers perceived that all the 
might of England could not compel America to renew 
her allegiance to the crown. After a great deal of dis- 
cussion, a treaty of peace was signed in September, 

1783- 

" Now, at last," said Grandfather, " after weary 
years of war, the regiments of Massachusetts returned 
in peace to their families. Now the stately and dig- 
nified leaders, such as General Lincoln and General 
Knox, with their powdered hair and their uniforms of 
blue and buff, were seen moving about the streets." 

" And little boys ran after them, I suppose," re- 
marked Charley ; " and the grown people bowed re- 
spectfully." 

"They deserved respect, for they were good men 
as well as brave," answered Grandfather. " Now, too, 
the inferior officers and privates came home to seek 
some peaceful occupation. Their friends remembered 
them as slender and smooth-cheeked young men ; but 
they returned with the erect and rigid mien of disci- 
plined soldiers. Some hobbled on crutches and wooden 
legs; others had received wounds, which were still 
rankling in their breasts. Many, alas ! had fallen in bat- 
tle, and perhaps were left unburied on the bloody field." 

"The country must have been sick of war," ob- 
served lyaurence. 




GENERAL BURGOYNE. 



268 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

" One would have thouglit so," said Grandfather. 
" Yet only two or three years elapsed before the folly 
of some misguided men caused another mustering of 
soldiers. This affair was called Shays' war, because 
a Captain Shays was the chief leader of the insur- 
gents." 

''O Grandfather, don't let there be another war!" 
cried little Alice, piteously. 

Grandfather comforted his dear little girl by assur- 
ing her that there was no great mischief done. Shays' 
war happened in the latter part of 1776 and the begin- 
ning of the following year. Its principal cause was 
the badness of times. The state of Massachusetts, in 
its public capacity, was very much in debt. So, like- 
wise, were many of the people. An insurrection took 
place, the object of which seems to have been to in- 
terrupt the course of law and get rid of debts and 
taxes. 

James Bowdoin, a good and able man, was now 
governor of Massachusetts. He sent General Lin- 
coln, at the head of four thousand men, to put down 
the insurrection. This general, who had fought 
through se\'eral hard campaigns in the Revolution, 
managed matters like an old soldier, and totally de- 
feated the rebels at the expense of very little blood. 

" There is but one more public event to be recorded 
in the history of our chair," proceeded Grandfather. 
"In the year 1794 Samuel Adams was elected gover- 
nor of Massachusetts. I have told you what a dis- 
tinguished patriot he was, and how much he resembled 
the stern old Puritans. Could the ancient freemen 




IS 

! O 



270 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

of Massachusetts who lived in the days of the first 
charter have arisen from their graves, they would 
probably have voted for Samuel Adams to be gover- 
nor." 

" Well, Grandfather, I hope he sat in our chair," 
said Clara. 

"He did," replied Grandfather. "He had long 
been in the habit of visiting the barber's shop, where 
our venerable chair, philosophically forgetful of its 
former dignities, had now spent nearly eighteen not 
uncomfortable years. Such a remarkable piece of 
furniture, so evidently a relic of long-departed times, 
could not escape the notice of Samuel Adams. He 
made minute researches into its history, and ascer- 
tained what a succession of excellent and famous people 
had occupied it." 

"How did he find it out?" asked Charley; "for I 
suppose the chair could not tell its own history." 

" There used to be a vast collection of ancient let- 
ters and other documents in the tower of the Old 
South church," answered Grandfather. " Perhaps the 
history of our chair was contained among these. At 
all events, Samuel Adams appears to have been well 
acquainted with it. When he became governor, he 
felt that he could have no more honorable seat than 
that which had been the ancient Chair of State. He 
therefore purchased it for a trifle, and filled it worthily 
for three years as governor of Massachusetts." 

" And what next?" asked Charley. 

" That is all," said Grandfather, heaving a sigh ; 
for he could not help being a little sad at the thought 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



271 



that his stories must close here. "Samuel Adams 
died in 1803, ^t the age above three-score and ten. 




THE MARQUIS DE I.AFAYETTE. 



272 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

He was a great patriot, but a poor man. At his death 
he left scarcely property enough to pay the expenses 
of his funeral. This precious chair, among his other 
effects, was sold at auction; and your Grandfather, 
who was then in the strength of his years, became the 
purchaser." 

Laurence, with a mind full of thoughts that strug- 
gled for expression but could find none, looked stead- 
fastly at the chair. 

He had now learned all its history, yet was not 
satisfied. 

" Oh, how I wish that the chair could speak !" 
cried he. " After its long intercourse with man- 
kind, — after looking upon the world for ages, — what 
lessons of golden wisdom it might utter ! It might 
teach a private person how to lead a good and happy 
life, — or a statesman how to make his country pros- 
perous." 



CHAPTER XI. 

Grandfather was struck by Laurence's idea that 
the historic chair should utter a voice, and thus pour 
forth the collected wisdom of two centuries. The old 
gentleman had once possessed no inconsiderable share 
of fancy ; and even now its fading sunshine occasion- 
ally glimmered among his more sombre reflections. 

As the history of his chair had exhausted all his 
facts. Grandfather determined to have recourse to 
fable. So, after warning the children that they must 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



273 



not mistake this story for a true one, he related what 
we shall call — 

grandfather's dream. 

Laurence and Clara, where were you last night? 
Where were you, Charley, and dear little Alice? 
You had all gone to 
rest, and left old Grand- 
father to meditate alone 
in his great chair. The 
lamp had grown so 
dim that its light 
hardly illuminated the 
alabaster shade. The 
wood fire had crum- 
bled into heavy em- 
bers, among which the 
little flames danced, 
and quivered, and 
sported about like 
fairies.' 

And here sat 
Grandfather all by 
himself. He knew that <^='^'^'**'- '^^'^J^^™ "'''^"ln. 
it was bedtime ; yet he could not help longing to hear 
your merry voices, or to hold a comfortable chat with 
some old friends ; because then his pillow would be 
visited by pleasant dreams. But, as neither children 
nor friends were at hand. Grandfather leaned back in 
the great chair and closed his eyes, for the sake of 
meditating more profoundly. 
18 




274 GRANDFATHER'S CH^IR 

And, when Grandfather's meditations had grown 

very profound indeed, he fancied that he heard a sound 

over his head, as if somebody were preparing to speak. 

"Hem!" it said, in a dry, husky tone. "He-e-m! 

Hem!" 

As Grandfather did not know that any person was 
in the room, he started up in great surprise, and peeped 
hither and thither, behind the chair, and into the re- 
cess by the fireside and at the dark nook yonder near 
the bookcase. Nobody could he see. 

" Pooh ! " said Grandfather to himself, "I must have 
been dreaming." 

But, just as he was going to resume his seat, Grand- 
father happened to look at the great chair. The rays 
of firelight were flickering upon it in such a manner 
that it really seemed as if its oaken frame were all 
alive. What! Did it not move its elbow? There, 
too ! It certainly lifted one of its ponderous fore-legs 
as if it had a notion of drawing itself a little nearer to 
the fire. Meanwhile the lion's head nodded at Grand- 
father with a polite and sociable a look as a lion's 
visage, carved in oak, could possibly be expected to 
assume. Well, this is strange ! 

" Good evening, my old friend," said the dry and 
husky voice, now a little clearer than before. " We 
have been intimately acquainted so long that I think 
it high time we have a chat together." 

Grandfather was looking straight at the lion's head, 
and could not be mistaken in suppossng that it moved 
its lips. So here the mystery was all explained. 

" I was not aware," said Grandfather, with a civil 




GENERAI, NATHANIBI, GRE;e;NE, 



276 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

salutation to his oaken companion, " that you pos- 
sessed the faculty of speech. Otherwise I should often 
have been glad to converse with such a solid, useful, 
and substantial if not brilliant member of society." 

" Oh ! " replied the ancient chair, in a quiet and easy 
tone, for it had now cleared its throat of the dust of 
ages, "I am naturally a silent and incommunicative sort 
of character. Once or twice in the course of a cen- 
tury I unclose my lips. When the gentle I^ady Arbella 
departed this life I uttered a groan. When the honest 
mint-master weighed his plump daughter against the 
pine-tree shillings I chuckled audibU' at the joke. 
When old Simon Bradstreet took the place of the 
tyrant Andros I joined in the general huzza, and ca- 
pered on my wooden legs for joy. To be sure, the 
bystanders were so fully occupied with their own feel- 
ings that my sympathy was quite unnoticed." 

" And have you often held a private chat with your 
friends?" asked Grandfather. 

" Not often," answered the chair. " I once talked 
with Sir William Phips, and communicated my ideas 
about the witchcraft delusion. Cotton Mather had 
several conversations with me, and derived great bene- 
fit from my historical reminiscences. In the days of 
the Stamp Act I whispered in the ear of Hutchinson, 
bidding him to remember what stock his countrymen 
were descended of, and to think whether the spirit of 
their forefathers had utterly departed from them. The 
last man whom I favored with a colloquy was that 
stout old republican, Samuel Adams." 

''And how happens it," inquired Grandfather, " that 



GRANDFATHER'S CHATR. 



277 



there is no record or tradition of your conversational 
abilities? It is an uncommon thing to meet with a 
chair that can talk." 

" Why, to tell you the truth," said the chair, giving 




I.ORD CORNWAr^WS. 



2-78 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

itself a hitch nearer to the hearth, " I am not apt to 
choose the most suitable moments for unclosing my 
lips. Sometimes I have inconsiderately begun to 
speak, when my occupant, lolling back in my arms, 
was inclined to take an after-dinner nap. Or, perhaps 
the impulse to talk may be felt at midnight, when the 
the lamp burns dim and the fire crumbles into decay, 
and the studious or thoughtful man finds that his brain 
is in a mist. Oftenest, I have unwisely uttered my 
wisdom in the ears of sick persons, when the inquie- 
tude of fever made them toss about upon my cushions. 
And so it happens, that, though my words make a 
pretty strong impression at the moment, yet my audi- 
tors invariably remember them only as a dream. I 
should not wonder if you, my excellent friend, were to 
do the same to-morrow morning." 

"Nor I either," thought Grandfather to himself. 
However, he thanked this respectable old chair for 
beginning the conversation, and begged to know 
whether it had anything particular to communicate. 

" I have been listening attentively to your narra- 
tive of my adventures," replied the chair; "and it 
must be owned that your correctness entitles you to be 
held up as a pattern to biographers. Nevertheless, 
there are a few omissions which I should be glad to 
see supplied. For instance, you make no mention of 
the good knight Sir Richard Saltonstall, nor of the 
famous Hugh Peters, nor of those old regicide judges, 
Whalley, Goffe, and Dixwell. Yet I have borne the 
weight of all those distinguished characters at one 
time or another." 



28o GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

Grandfather promised amendment if ever he should 
have an opportunity to repeat his narrative. The 
good old chair, which still seemed to retain a due re- 
gard for outward appearance, then reminded him how 
long a time had passed since it had been provided 
with a new cushion. It likewise expressed the opin- 
ion that the oaken figures on its back would show to 
much better advantage by the aid of a little varnish. 

" And I have had a complaint in this joint," con- 
tinued the chair, endeavoring to lift one of its legs, 
" ever since Charley trundled his wheelbarrow against 
me." 

" It shall be attended to," said Grandfather. " And 
now, venerable chair, I have a favor to solicit. During 
an existence of more than two centuries you have had 
a familiar intercourse with men who were esteemed 
the wisest of their day. Doubtless, with your capa- 
cious understanding, you have treasured up many an 
invaluable lesson of wisdom. You certainly have had 
time enough to guess the riddle of life. Tell us, poor 
mortals, then, how we may be happy." 

The lion's head fixed its eyes thoughtfully upon the 
fire, and the whole chair assumed an aspect of deep 
meditation. Finally, it beckoned to Grandfather with 
its elbow, and made a step sideways towards him, as if 
it had a very important secret to communicate 

" As long as I have stood in the midst of human 
affairs," said the chair, with a very oracular enuncia- 
tion, " I have constantly observed that Justice, 
Truth, and lyOVE are the chief ingredients of every 
happy life." 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 281 

"Justice, Truth, and Love!" exclaimed Grand- 
father. " We need not exist two centuries to find out 
that these qualities are essential to our happiness. This 
is no secret. Every human being is born with the in- 
stinctive knowledge of it." 

" Ah ! " cried the chair, drawing back in surprise. 
" From what I have observed of the dealings of man 
with man, and nation with nation, I never should have 
suspected that they knew this all-important secret. 
And, with this eternal lesson written in your soul, do 
you ask me to sift new wisdom for you out of my 
petty existence of two or three centuries?" 

" But, my dear chair " — said Grandfather. 

"Not a word more," interrupted the chair; "here 
I close my lips for the next hundred years. At the 
end of that period, if I shall have discovered any new 
precepts of happiness better than what Heaven has 
already taught you, they shall assuredly be given to 
the world." 

In the energy of its utterance the oaken chair 
seemed to stamp its foot, and trod (we hope uninten- 
tionally) upon Grandfather's toe. The old gentleman 
started, and found that he had been asleep in the great 
chair, and that his heavy walking stick had fallen 
down across his foot. 



"Grandfather," cried little Alice, clapping her 
hands, "you must dream a new dream every night 
about our chair !" 



282 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



Laurence, and Clara, and Charley said the same. 
But the good old gentleman shook his head, and de- 
clared that here ended the history, real or fabulous, of 
Grandfather's Chair. 




ALTEMUS' YOUNQ PEOPLE'S LIBRARY. 



ROBINSON CRUSOE: His Life and Strange, Sur- 
prising Adventures. With 70 beautiful illustrations 
by Walter Paget. 

" Was there ever anything written that the reader wished longer ex- 
cept KoBiNSON Crusoe and Pilgrim's Progkess? " — Samuel Johnson. 

" There exists no work, either of instruction or entertainment, which 
nas been more generally read, and universally admired." — Walter Scott. 

ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND. 

With 42 illustrations by John Tenniel. 

" TjCwis Carroll's immortal story." — Athenceum. 
" The most delightful of children's storie*. Elegant and delicious 
flonsenae." — Saturday Review. 

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS AND WHAT 
ALICE FOUND THERE. {A companion to Alice 
IN Wonderland.) With 60 illustrations by John 
Tenniel. 

"Will fairly rank with the tale of her previous experience."— Z)a% 
Telegraph. . . . "Many of Tenniel's designs are masterpieces of wise 
absurdity." — Athenceum. ..." Not a whit inferior to its predecessor 
in grand extravagance of imagination, &tv\ delicious allegorical noii'' 
sense." — Quarterly Review. 

BUNYAN'S PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. With 60 full. 

page and text illustrations. 
Pilgrim's Progress is the most popular story book in the world. 
With the exception of the Bible it has been translated into more lan- 
guages than any other book ever printed. 

A CHILD'S STORY OF THE BIBLE. With 72 fuU- 
page illustrations. 
Tells in simple language attd in a form fitted for the hands of the 
younger members of the Chiistian flock, the tale of God's dealings with 
his Chosen People under the Old Dispensation, with its foreshadowings 
of the coming of that Messiah who was to make all mankind one fold 
inder one Shepherd. 

A CHILD'S LIFE OF CHRIST. With 4^ illustrations. 

God has implanted in the infant heart a desire to hear of Jesus, and 
children are early attracted and sweetly riveted by the wonderful Story 
of the Master from the Manger to the Throne. 

In this little book we have brought together from Scripture every in- 
cident, expression and description, within the verge of their comprehen- 
•iou in the effort to weave them into a memorial garland of their Saviour. 



CHRISTOPHEE COLUMBUS AND THE DISCOV- 
EKY OF AMERICA. With 70 illustrations. 

It is the duty of every American lad to If now the story of Christopher 
Cohimbus. In this book is depicted the story of his life and struggles; 
of his persistent soliciiations at the Courts of Europe, and his contemnfc 
ous receptions by the learned Geographical Councils, until his tinal em- 

Eloyment by Queen Isabella. Records the day-by-day journeyings while 
e was pursuing his aim and perilous way over the shoreless Ocean, until 
he " gave to ISpain a New World." Shows his progress through Spain on 
the occasion of his lirst return, when he was received with rapturous 
demonstrations and more than regal homage. His displacement by the 
Odjeas, Ovandos and Bobadilas; his last return iu chains, and the story 
of his death in poverty and neglect. 

One distingu"ishing feature of this edition is, that many of the illus- 
trations are copies from DeBry'sand Herrara's histories, which were com- 
Eiled by authority of the King of Spain, showing the Indians, in their 
fe and customs, as they appeared to the early discoverers. 

LIVES OF THE PRESIBENTS OF THE UNITED 

STATES. Compiled from authoritative sources. With 
portraits of the Presidents; and also of the unsuccessful 
candidates for the office ; as well as the ablest of the 
Cabinet officers. 
This book should be in every home and school library. It tells, in an 

Impartial way, the story of la jpolitical history of the United St:ites, from 

the first Constitutional convention till the last Presidential nominations. 

it is just the book iov intelligent boys, and it will help to make them 

Intelligent and patriotic citizens. 

GULLIVER'S TRAVELS INTO SOME REMOTE 

REGIONS OF THE WORLD. With 50 illustra- 
tions. 
In description, even of the most common-place things, his power Is 
often perfectly marvellous. Macaulay says of Swift : " Under a plain 
garb and ungainly deportment were concealed some of the choicest gifts 
that ever have been bestowed on any of the children of men, — rare 
powers of observation, brilliant art, grotesque invention, humor of the 
most austere flavor, yet exquisitely delicious, eloquence singularly pure, 
manly, and perspicuous." 

MOTHER GOOSE'S RHYMES, JINGLES, AND 

FAIRY TALES. V/ilh aOO illustrations. 
" In this edition an excellent clioire has been made from the standard 
fiction of the little ones. Tie a!)un.lanL pictures are well drawn arad 
graceful, the eti'ect frequently ptriking and always decorative." — Critic. 
..." Only to see the book is to wish to give it to every child one 
knows." — Queen. 

THE FABLES OF -ffiSOP. Compiled from the best 
accepted sources. With B2 illnstrntions. 
The fables of TEsop are among the very earliest compositions of this 
kind, and probably have never been surpassed lor point and brevity, m 



well V.3 for viie practical good sense tney display. In their grmesque 
grace, in tlieir quaint humor, in their trust in the simpler virtues. 
iu their insight into the cruder vices, in their innocence of the fact 
of sex, ^Esop's Fables are as little children — and for that reason 
they will ever find a home in the heaven of little children's souls. 

THE STORY OF ADVENTURE IN THE FROZEN 

SEAS. With 70 illustrations. Compiled from author- 
ized sources. 

We have here brought together the records of the attempts to rcacu 
the North Pole. Our object being to recall the stories of the early voy- 
agers, and to narrate the recent efforts of gallant adventurers of various 
nationalities to cross the ** unknown and inaccessible" threshold; and 
to show how much can be accomplished by indomitable pluck and steady 
perseverance. Portraits and numerous illustrations help the narration. 

The North Polar region is the largest, as it is the most important field 
of discovery that remains for this generation to work out. As Frobisher 
declared nearly three hundred and fifty years ago, it is "the oidy great 
thing left undone in the world," Every year diminishes the exteotof 
the unknown ; and there is a bare likelih'" d that Dr. Nansen has already 
explored the hitherto unexplorable. 

THE STORY OF EXPLORATION AND DIS- 

COVERY IN AFRICA. With 80 illustrations. 

^Cecords the experiences of adventures, privations, sufferings, trials, 
dangers, and discoveries in developing the "Dark Continent." from the 
early days of Bruce and Mungo Park down to Livingstone a^d Stanley 
and the heroes of our own times. 

The reader becomes carried away by conflicting emotions of wonder 
and sympathy, and feels compelled to pursue the story, whica lie cannot 
lay down. No present can be more acoeptable than such a volume as this, 
where courage, intrepidity, resource and devotion are so pleasantly 
mingled. It is very fully illustrated with pictures worthy of the book. 

THE SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON, or the Adven- 
tures of a Shipwrecked Family on an Uninhab- 
ited Island. With 50 illustrations. 

A remarkable tale of adventure that will interest the boys and gins. 
The father of the family fells the tale and the vicissitudes through 
which he and hia wife and children pass, the wonderful discoveries they 
make, and the dangers they encounter. It is a standard work of adven- 
ture that has the favor of all who have read it. 

THE ARABIAN NIGHTS ENTERTAINMENTS. 

With 50 illustrations. Contains the most favorably 

known of the stories. 
The text is somewhat abridgea and edited for the young. It forms an 
excellent introduction to those immortal tales whicll have helped so 
long to keep the weary world young. 



ILLUSTRATED NATURAL HISTORY. By the Riiv. 

J. G. Wood. With 80 illustrations. 
' Wood's Natural, History needs no commendation. Its author has 
done more than any other writer to popularize the study. His work is 
known and admired over all the civilized world. The sales of his works 
in England and America have beea enormous. The illustrations in thia 
edition are entirely new, striking, and life-like. 

A CHILD'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. By Charles 
Dickens. With 50 illustrations. 

Dickens grew tired of listening to his children memorizing the old- 
fashioned twaddle that went under the name of English history. He 
thereupon wrote a book, in his own peculiarly happy style, primarily 
for the educational advantage of his own children, but was prevailed upon 
to publish the work, and make its use general. Its success was instanta* 
neous and abiding. 

BLACK BEAUTY ; The Autobiography of a Horse. 

By Anna Sewell. With 50 illustrations. 
This NEW ILLUSTRATED EDITION is Sure to command attention. Wher- 
ever children are, whether boys or girls, there thi3 Autobiography should 
be. It inculcates habits of kindness to all members of the animal crea- 
tion. The literary merit of the book is excellent. 

GRIMM'S FAIRY TALES. With 50 Illustrations. 

These Tales of the Brothers Grimm have carried their names into 
every household of the civilized world. 

The Tales are a wonderful collection, as interesting, from a literary 
point of view, as they are delightful as stories. 

ANDERSEN'S FAIRY TALES. By Hans Christian 

Andersen. With 77 illustrations. 
The spirit of hi:;h moral teaching, and the delicacy of sentiment, feel- 
ing, and expression that pervade these tales make these wonderful crea- 
tions not only attractive to the young, but equally acceptable to those of 
mature years, wiio are able to understand their real significance and ap- 
preciate the depth of their meaning. 

FLOWER FABLES. By Louisa May Alcott. With 
colored and plain illustrations. 
A series of very interesting fairy tales by the most charming of Amer- 
ican story-tellers. 

GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR : A History for Youtn. 

By Nathaniel Hawthorne, With 60 illustrations. 

The story of America from the landing of the Puritans to the acknowl- 
edgment without reserve of the Independence of the United States, 
told with all the elegance, simplicity, grace, clearness, and force for 
•which Hawthorne js ponspicuously noted. 



